
B 






CoffyiiglitS^^ 



CiJRflRIGtIT DEPOSIT. 



THE SLAVIC TRANSLATIONS 
BY LEO WIENER 



IN THE WAR 

MEMOIRS OF 

V'VERESAeV 



IN THE WAR 

MEMOIRS OF 

V ' VERES AEV|iiii^ 



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TRANSLATED BY 

LEO WIENER 

PROFESSOR OF SLAVIC LANGUAGES AND 

LITERATURES AT HARVARD 

UNIVERSITY 



® 



NEW YORK 

MITCHELL KENNERLEY 

I917 



COPYRIGHT I917 BY 
MITCHELL KENNERLEY 



Pi 



APR 23 1917 



PRINTED IN AMERICA 



'Ci,A462070 



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CONTENTS 



CHAFFEB PAGB 

FOREWORD ' Vii 

I AT HOME 1 

II ON THE WAY 23 

III IN MUKDEN 65 

IV THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 89 
V THE GREAT STAND: OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 131 

VI THE GREAT STAND : DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 189 

VII THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 232 

VIII ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 267 

IX WANDERING 300 

X IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 329 

XI PEACE 354 

XII HOME AGAIN 378 



FOREWORD 

Byelinski recognized in Gogol the founder of the 
Natural School, which dethroned the romantic hero 
with his extravagant and exceptional achievements, and 
enlisted the reader's sympathy for the struggles, suffer- 
ings and defeats of plain, every-day characters. Mili- 
tary exploits immediately lost their favor as subjects 
of novels, and in the portrayal of war scenes the Rus- 
sian authors sought out the humble soldiers with their 
passive resignation to fate, where formerly they had 
revelled in the glorification of generals and kings. Tol- 
stoy began his career as a romanticist, and, besides 
his autobiographical sketches, wrote his Incursion, a 
story of camp life in the Caucasus. This was but a 
flash in the pan. In 1855 the Crimean War broke out, 
and Tolstoy, in his Sevastopol sketches, described the 
terror and uselessness of battles, in which the only 
heroes were the patient soldiers who unflinchingly per- 
formed their duties, while the officers vied with each 
other in bravado, debauch, and cowardice. He returned 
to the recital of battle scenes in War and Peace, only 
to deny the existence of all military science, to belittle 
the genius of Napoleon, and to extol the Christian meek- 
ness of a peasant, Platon Karataev. 

The Turco-Russian War did not produce any marked 
literary denunciation of war, except in Garshin's Four 
Days, in which the terrible suffering of a wounded sol- 
dier was painfully recited. But Tolstoy's example was 
this time followed by the great painter Vereshchagin, 
who devoted all his energy to the reproduction of battle 

vii 



viii FOREWORD 

scenes in sucli a realistic manner that they could only 
fill the spectator with abhorrence and hatred of war. 
The Russian Government found it necessary to pro- 
hibit exhibitions of his pictures as destructive of pa- 
triotism, that is, as creating a spirit imfavorable to the 
maintenance of military enthusiasm. 

During the Russo-Japanese War, Vereshchagin once 
more set out to study battle scenes on the spot, but lost 
his life on one of the cruisers which was sunk by the 
Japanese. This time, however, it fell to the lot of a 
physician, Veresaev, to sketch the whole campaign in 
such a way as to deprive war of the last vestige of 
respect, and to bear out the novelist and the painter 
in every detail of their terrible denunciations. The 
abyss has been reached. The ignorance, incompetence, 
negligence and brutality of the superior officers are 
described in painful detail, and now even the soldiers 
have lost the aureole with which Tolstoy surrounded 
them. As a human document Veresaev's In the War 
is of prime importance. It is the most complete analy- 
sis of the ingloriousness of war yet obtained. The 
present European War will hardly produce anything 
more incisive than the works of the Russian novelist, 
painter and physician. 

The Teanslator, 



IN THE WAR 



CHAPTER I 



AT HOME 



Japan broke off her diplomatic relations with Russia. 
In the roadstead of Port Arthur the explosions of Jap- 
anese mines resounded one dark night amidst the 
peacefully-sleeping war-ships. In distant Chemulpo 
the lonely Varydg and K or Sets perished after a titanic 
struggle with a whole squadron. The war began. 

What was this war about ? Nobody knew. For half 
a year conversations, unintelligible to all, had been go- 
ing on in regard to the evacuation of Manchuria by the 
Russians. The clouds had been gathering heavier and 
heavier, and a storm was in the air. Our statesmen 
had been balancing the scales of war and peace with 
provoking hesitation. Now Japan definitely cast her 
lot on the scale of war. 

The Russian patriotic newspapers began to seethe 
with military fervor. They shouted about the hellish 
treachery and Asiatic cunning of the Japanese, who 
had attacked us without a declaration of war. Mani- 
festations were taking place in all the large cities. 
Crowds of people walked the streets with the Tsar's 
portraits in their hands, shouting "Hurrah !" and sing- 
ing "God save the Tsar !" According to the newspapers, 
the audiences in the theatre persistently and unani- 
mously demanded the singing of the national hymn. 
The armies that went eastward struck the newspaper 

1 



3 IN THE WAR 

reporters by their fine appearance, and were anxious 
to begin battle. It looked as though Russia, from the 
top to the bottom, were seized by one mighty impulse 
of enthusiasm and indignation. 

Of course, the war had not been provoked by Japan, 
and was incomprehensible on account of its useless- 
ness ; but what of that? If each small cell of the living 
body has its small, individual consciousness, it will not 
ask the question why the body has suddenly leaped up, 
why it makes an effort, why it struggles. The blood 
corpuscles will flow through the arteries, the muscular 
tissues will contract, each little cell will do its pre- 
determined duty. But it is the business of the supreme 
brain to say what the struggle is for and where the 
blows are to fall. It is precisely this impression that 
Russia was making: she did not need the war, she did 
not understand it; but all her enormous organism was 
atremble with the mighty elation which had taken pos- 
session of her. 

So it seemed from a (distance, but it looked quite dif- 
ferently near by. The intellectuals were not at all 
hostilely provoked against the Japanese. They were 
not agitated by the question of the result of the war; 
there was not a trace of ill-feeling against the Jap- 
anese; our failures did not oppress them. On the con- 
trary, side by side with the pain for the reckless and 
useless sacrifices, there went a feeling almost of malice. 
Many people went so far as to proclaim that Russia 
would be best served by a defeat. To the occasional 
observer, to whom the whole matter was incompre- 
hensible, it looked as though something incredible was 
taking place. He saw the country at war, and yet at 
home the flower of its intelligence was following the 
struggle with hostile impatience. Foreigners were baf- 
fled and the "Patriots" were immeasurably provoked 
by "the rotten, aimless, cosmopolitan Russian intelli- 
gentsiya." But with the majority it was not at all a 



AT HOME S 

real, broad cosmopolitanism which could say to its 
country, "You are wrong, your enemy is right" ; nor 
was it an innate contempt for the bloody, sanguinary 
method of solving international quarrels. What really 
was striking in this matter, what now glaringly met the 
eye, was the immeasurably deep, universal hostility to- 
wards the rulers of the country that had begun the 
war. They, who had been leading up towards a strug- 
gle with the enemy, were themselves the most hated 
enemies and most foreign to the masses. 

Again, the nation was experiencing something quite 
different from what the patriotic newspapers had been 
expecting. In the beginning there had, indeed, been 
some enthusiasm, the unconscious enthusiasm of the un- 
thinking cell, that was carried away by the fervor of 
the organism aflame for the struggle. But the enthusi- 
asm was only superficial and weak, and from the per- 
sistently shouting figures on the stage heavy threads 
were running behind the curtains, and the directing 
hands were visible. 

I was at that time living in Moscow. During the 
Butter Week I happened to be in the Great Theatre, 
to see "Rigoletto." Before the overture, several voices 
in the pit and in the galleries demanded the national 
hymn. The curtain rose, the chorus on the stage sang 
the hymn, and an encore was demanded ; and they sang 
a second and a third time. Then they passed over to 
the opera. Before the last act, when all were already 
in their places, single voices suddenly began to shout 
from various parts of the house, "The Hymn, the 
Hymn!" The curtain shot up at once. The chorus 
stood on the stage in a semicircle, dressed in their opera 
costumes, and they once more gave the three conven- 
tional repetitions of the hymn. But here was a strange 
matter. As is well known, the chorus has no part in 
the last act of "Rigoletto." Why, then, had they not 
changed their clothes and gone home.^^ How could they 



^4. IN THE WAR 

have had a presentiment of the growth of the patriotic 
enthusiasm of the public, and why had they arranged 
themselves in time on the stage, where they had no 
business to be? The next day the newspapers wrote: 
"In society may be observed an ever-growing elan of 
patriotic sentiments. Last night the audiences in all 
the theatres persistently demanded the singing of the 
national hymn, not only before the performance, but 
even before the last act." 

The same suspicious element might have been ob- 
served in the street manifestations. The crowds were 
small and consisted to a great extent of street urchins. 
In the leaders of the manifestations people recognized 
policemen in civilian clothes. The attitude of the 
crowd was aggressive and insulting. They demanded 
of passers-by that they should take off their hats. 
Those who did not do so were beaten. When the crowd 
increased, there arose unforeseen complications. They 
almost demolished the "Hermitage" restaurant, and 
on Strastnaya Square mounted policemen drove off 
with knouts the overfervent demonstrators of patriotic 
enthusiasm. 

The Governor General issued an order. He thanked 
the citizens for the sentiments expressed by them, and 
proposed that they should stop their manifestations 
and return to their peaceful occupations. Similar calls 
were at the same time issued by the high officials of 
other cities, and suddenly all the manifestations ceased. 
It was touching to notice the exemplary obedience with 
which the citizens proportioned the height of their 
spiritual ardor with the insinuations of the warmly- 
beloved authorities. Soon, very soon, the streets of 
the Russian cities were. to be filled with other crowds 
that were welded by a real, common enthusiasm, and 
against this enthusiasm not only the paternal insinua- 
tions of the authorities, but even knouts, sabres, and 
bullets, remained impotent. 



AT HOME 5 

In the show-cases of the stores were displayed cheap 
chromos of an amazingly stupid character. On one of 
them a gigantic Cossack, with a ferocious grin on his 
face, was mercilessly beating with his knout a tiny, 
frightened, howling Japanese. In another picture, 
which portrayed "How a Russian tar did a Jap's face 
mar," the blood streamed down the face of the Jap- 
anese, and his teeth poured down in a heavy rain into 
the blue waves. Small "monkeys" were squirming under 
the enormous boots of a shaggy creature with a blood- 
thirsty physiognomy, which personified Russia. It was 
as though the artist could get no other inspiration than 
from a drunken bout in a low saloon, where jaws 
cracked and teeth flew all about. Meanwhile patriotic 
newspapers and periodicals wrote of the deeply na- 
tional and deeply Christian character of the war, of 
the mighty incipient struggle of George the Victor 
with the Dragon. 

And Japanese victories followed upon victories. 
One after another our ironclads were smashed, and the 
Japanese proceeded farther and farther into Korea. 
Makarov and Kuropatkin, taking with them moun- 
tains of consecrated icons, had left for the Far East. 
Kuropatkin pronounced his famous "Patience, pa- 
tience, and patience." At the end of March the blindly- 
brave Makarov, deftly baited by Admiral Togo, went 
down with the "Petropavlovsk." The Japanese crossed 
the river Yalu. The news of their landing at Bitszyvo 
flashed across the country like a streak of lightning. 
Port Arthur was cut off. 

It appeared that we were attacked not by fimny 
crowds of contemptible '^monkeys," but by well-organ- 
ized armies of stern warriors who were insensately 
brave and who were seized by a great spiritual ardor. 
Their firmness of character and power of organization 
inspired admiration. In interims between the arrival 
of news of great Japanese victories, the despatches 



6 IN THE WAR 

announced some spirited scouting expeditions of Cap- 
tain K. or Lieutenant U., who had bravely cut down 
a Japanese guard of a dozen men or so. But this did 
not help to balance the bad impression. Confidence was 
falling more and more. 

A newspaper boy walked down the street, and some 
artisans were sitting in front of the gate. 

"The latest despatches from the theatre of war! 
We have beaten the Japs !" 

"All right. Get a move on you ! I guess they have 
found a drunken Jap somewhere in the gutter and have 
licked him. We're on to it!" 

The battles were becoming more frequent and more 
bloody. A sanguinary mist was covering distant Man- 
churia. Explosions, rains of fire from the cannon, cov- 
ered pits, and barbed-wire entanglements — corpses, 
corpses, corpses — from a thousand miles away there 
seemed to pass through the pages of the newspapers 
the odor of lacerated and singed human flesh, the phan- 
tom of some gigantic, unheard-of slaughter. 

In April I left Moscow for the city of N. and 
departed thence into the country. Everywhere they 
eagerly read the newspapers and asked for the latest 
news. The peasants said in sadness: "Now they are 
going to ask for bigger taxes !" 

At the end of April our Government announced a 
mobilization. There had been dim references to it be- 
fore, and it had been expected for three weeks ; but 
everything was kept a great secret. Suddenly the Gov- 
ernment was struck as if by a hurricane. They drafted 
the men in the villages right from the fields and from 
the ploughs. In the towns the pohce rang the bell in 
private apartments in the dead of night, handed sum- 
monses to the recruits, and ordered them to make their 
appearance in the wards without delay. At the house 
of a friend of mine, an engineer, they drafted all the 



AT HOME 7 

servants, the lackey, the coachman, and the cook. He 
himself happened to be away on leave of absence. The 
police broke open his desk, got from it the passports of 
the recruits, and carried them all oif. 

There was something unfeelingly ferocious in this 
incomprehensible haste. They tore men away from 
the midst of their business, without giving them a 
chance to settle or liquidate their affairs. Men were 
carried off, and all that there was left after them were 
senselessly-destroyed households and ruined welfare. 

The next morning I happened to be in the office of 
the Military Council. I had to report my country ad- 
dress in case of being called with the reserve. In the 
large yard of the office, along the fences, stood carts 
with horses, and in the carts and on the ground sat 
women, children, and old men. A large crowd of 
peasants was standing around the porch of the office. 
A soldier at the door kept driving the peasants away. 
He shouted angrily: 

"Didn't I tell you to come Monday? Get away! 
Move along!" 

"What do you mean by Monday? You took us, 
you drove us, you told us to get here at once." 

"All right. So come on Monday!" 

"On Monday!" The peasants walked off, swinging 
their arms. "They raised us in the night, they took us 
without saying a word, they didn't give us a chance to 
straighten out matters, they drove us here for a dis- 
tance of thirty versts, and now they teU us 'Come Mon- 
day !' And it is only Saturday to-day !" 

"Of course, it would have been more convenient for 
us to come on Monday. But where are we to stay now 
until Monday?" 

Weeping and lamentation filled the whole city. Here 
and there brief dramas were enacted. One recruit from 
a factory had a sickly wife and five children. When 
the call to the army came, the excitement and sorrow 



8 IN THE WAR 

caused his wife paralysis of the heart, and she died at 
once. Her husband took a glance at the dead body 
and at his children, and went into the barn and hanged 
himself. 

Another recruit, a widower with three children, wept 
and cried in the Council room: 

"What shall I do with my children? Instruct me 
what to do ! They will all die from starvation without 
me!" 

He acted like a madman, shouted, and shook his fists 
in the air. Then he suddenly grew silent, went home, 
killed his children with an axe, and came back. 

"Now take me. I've attended to my business." 

He was arrested. 

The despatches from the theatre of the war again 
and again brought the news of great Japanese vic- 
tories, and of clever scouting exploits of Ensign Ivanov, 
or Cornet Petrov. The newspapers said that the Jap- 
anese victories on the sea were not at all remarkable, 
because the Japanese were born sailors, but that now, 
since the war was transferred to the land, things would 
go quite differently. We were informed that the Jap- 
anese were out of money and men, and that sixteen- 
year old boys and old men were being called to the col- 
ors. Kuropatkin calmly and austerely announced that 
peace would be made only at Tokio. 

In May, before the army corps was sent to the Far 
East, the reservists received a week's leave of absence. 
I was just driving from the railway station to the 
village as they were returning to the city. It was a 
grey, misty, rainless evening. Soldiers w'ere walking 
and driving along the road to the station. It was un- 
usual to see these grown-up, bearded peasants in mili- 
tary cloaks. Some were drunk and shouted songs ; oth- 
ers were sober, and trudged along gloomily and sadly. 
The women howled. A stocky soldier with a shaggy 
beard and firmly-set lips looked at me. He said : 



AT HOME 9 

"Give me your blessing for the Far East!" 

I had a strange sensation, as though it were the voice 
of one who was on his way to his execution. 

Aleksyey Sofronychev, a plasterer from our village, 
drove by in a cart. His cloak hung like a bag on his 
narrow, stooping shoulders, and his eyes looked im- 
movably at one point. His silent wife, with tearful 
eyes, held the reins. 

It was getting dark. The sky was overcast, the fields 
looked gloomy. And in the twilight the sad figures of 
the fated ones moved on like grey phantoms. 

In the beginning of June I received in the country a 
despatch demanding my immediate appearance at mili- 
tary headquarters. 

There I was told that I was called for active service 
and must report in the city of S. at the Staff Office 
of the Division of Infantry. According to law, I was 
given two days to arrange my domestic affairs and 
three days to get my uniform. Everything was being 
done in haste, the uniform was being made, and all 
kinds of things were being bought. Nobody knew how 
the uniform was to be made, what was to be bought, 
or how many things one could take along. It was a 
difficult matter to get one's complete equipment in five 
days. It was necessary to hurry the tailors and to 
pay them three-fold for day and night work. In spite 
of it all, the uniform was a day late, and I hurried on 
the first train to S. 

I arrived at night. All the hotels were full of newly- 
drafted officers and surgeons, and I drove about town 
for a long while before I found an expensive and dirty 
room in an ill-furnished lodging-house in the outskirts 
of the town. 

In the morning I went to the Staff of the Division. 
I felt awkward in the military uniform, and I felt awk- 
ward, too, because the soldiers and policemen whom I 



10 IN THE WAR 

passed saluted me. My legs got constantly entangled 
with the sabre which dangled at my side. 

The long, low-studded rooms of the Staff were filled 
with tables, at which officers, surgeons, and soldier- 
clerks sat and wrote. I was directed to the Assistant 
Division Surgeon. 

"What is your name.?" 

I gave it to him. 

"You are not mentioned here in the mobilization 
plan," he repKed in surprise. 

"I know nothing about it. I was summoned here 
to S. with the order to appear at the office of the In- 
fantry Division. Here is the paper." 

The Assistant Division Surgeon looked through the 
paper and shrugged his shoulders. He went away, 
had a talk with another surgeon, and both rummaged 
through a lot of documents. 

"There is positively no reference to you in our docu- 
ments," he announced to me. 

"So I may return home?" I asked smihngly. 

"Just wait a little. I'll take another look." 

I waited. There were some other surgeons who had 
been called from the reserve, some in civilian clothes, 
others, like me, in brand new uniforms with shining 
shoulder-straps. We made each other's acquaintance. 
They told me of the incredible confusion which reigned 
in the office. Nobody knew what he was about, and 
nobody could find anything out from his neighbor. 

"Arise !" A sonorous voice commandingly passed 
through the room. 

Everybody arose, hurriedly arranging his clothes. 
An old, spectacled general sauntered into the room, 
exclaiming jestingly: 

"I wish you good health!" 

A friendly din met his salutation. The general 
passed into the next room. 

The assistant approached me. 



AT HOME 11 

"Well, at last we have found it. In the ambulance 
corps of the field hospital there is a vacancy caused by 
a junior surgeon whom the MiHtary Council has de- 
clared to be unfit for service. You are to take his place. 
By the way, here is your chief surgeon. Introduce 
yourself to him." 

A small, spare old man hurriedly entered the room. 
His uniform was shabby, and his shoulder-straps, indi- 
cating his rank of Collegiate Councillor, were tarnished. 
I walked up to him and introduced myself. I asked 
him where I was to go, and what I was to do. 

"What are you to do? Why, nothing. Just leave 
your address in the Office, that's all." 

I left the Staff with a strange feeling. The stern 
•and categorical rules of the summons demanded that 
I should leave for the appointed place within five 
days ; I left my personal affairs in an unfinished con- 
dition; I flew thither as to a conflagration — and here 
I saw that nobody needed me, that there was no sense 
in being in a hurry. I might have arrived a week or 
two later, and no one would even have noticed it. 

Day after day passed without work. Our Corps did 
not leave for the Far East until two months later. We, 
the surgeons, improved our knowledge of surgery by 
visiting the local hospital, being present at operations, 
and working over dead bodies. 

Among my companions who had been called from 
the reserve, there were specialists in all imaginable de- 
partments. There were among them alienists, hygien- 
ists, children's physicians, accoucheurs. We were scat- 
tered over hospitals, over ambulances, over armies, on 
the basis of the mobilization records, and not at all 
on the basis of our specialties. There were some physi- 
cians who had long ago given up practice. One of them 
had entered the service of the Excise Office eight years 
before, immediately after graduating from the uni- 



12 IN THE WAR 

versity, and had never in all his life written a single 
prescription. 

There was another physician, a grey-haired man, 
rather bald, who was nearly sixty years old. How 
could such an old man have been summoned to the 
army? This is the way it happened. After grad- 
uating as a physician, a man who is subject to military 
duty is counted in the reserve for the next eighteen 
years, independently of his wish, of course, whether he 
likes it or not. It would seem that after eighteen years 
the physician would be free. Not at all. He must then 
make known his desire to leave the reserve, otherwise he 
is not stricken from the records, and continues to be 
counted in the voluntary reserves. Our old physician 
had accomphshed the term of the reserve some twelve 
years ago, but like a typical Russian he forgot to give 
notice of the end of his service, and so he quite unex- 
pectedly appeared in the "voluntary reserves." Now, 
since the war had been declared, matters were settled, 
and he could not leave the reserve. So the old man was 
called, and he had to go to the war. 

I was appointed to the field hospital. In war time 
every division has two such hospitals. In the hospital 
there is one chief surgeon, one senior assistant sur- 
geon, and three junior assistants. The lower positions 
were taken by physicians who had been called from 
the reserve, the higher by military surgeons, 

I seldom saw our chief surgeon. Dr. Davydov. He 
was busy organizing the movable hospital; besides, he 
had an extensive practice in the city, and was con- 
stantly rushing somewhere. At the Staff I made the 
acquaintance of the chief surgeon of the second hos- 
pital of our division. Dr. Mutin. Previous to the 
mobilization he had been the junior surgeon of the 
local regiment. He was still living with his wife in the 
regimental camp. I passed an evening with him, and 
met there the junior surgeons of his hospital. They 



AT HOME IS 

had all made each other's acquaintance, and a relation- 
ship of comradery had established itself between them 
and Miitin. They were a jolly, happy lot. I was 
sorry for not having been appointed to their hospital, 
and I envied them. 

A few days later a despatch suddenly came from 
Moscow to the Staff of the Division. Dr. Mutin was 
ordered to turn over his hospital to a Dr. Sultanov, 
and himself immediately to repair to Harbin, in order 
to organize a reserve hospital there. The appoint- 
ment was unexpected and incomprehensible ; Mutin had 
already formed his hospital here, and had everything 
in running order^ — and suddenly this transfer. Of 
course, there was nothing to do but submit. Mutin 
consoled himself with the thought that now he would 
not have to go to the Far East with the echelon, and 
that, consequently, he would get travelling expenses, 
about a thousand rubles. But a few days later there 
came a new telegram. Mutin was not to go to Har- 
bin; he was again appointed junior surgeon of his regi- 
ment, which he was to accompany to the Far East. 
Upon arrival at Harbin with the echelon, he was to 
organize a reserve hospital. Thus he lost the chance 
for the travelling expenses. 

It was a cruel and undeserved affront. Mutin was 
provoked and agitated. He said that after such an 
insult in the service there was nothing left for him to 
do but to send a bullet through his brain. He took 
a leave of absence, and went to Moscow to get justice. 
He had some connections there, but he did not succeed 
in his quest. He was given to understand in Moscow 
that a mighty person had a hand in the matter and 
that nothing could be done against him. 

Mutin returned to his shattered nest, the regimental 
ward, and a few days later there arrived from Moscow 
his successor in the hospital. Dr. Sultanov. He was a 
tall gentleman, in the forties, with a Van Dyke beard 



14 IN THE WAR 

and greyish hair, and with a clever, smiling face. He 
knew how to start a conversation and to talk glibly ; he 
became everywhere the centre of attention, and in a 
nonchalant, serious voice dropped witticisms which 
made everybody laugh. Sultanov stayed in town a few 
days, and then went back to Moscow. He left all the 
responsibility for the further arrangement of the hos^ 
pital in the hands of the senior assistant. 

Soon it became known that of the four Sisters of 
Mercy who had been invited to the hospital from the 
local Red Cross Society, only one was left. Dr. Sul- 
tanov announced that he would substitute the other 
three himself. There were rumors that Sultanov was 
a great friend of the commander of our corps, and that 
certain Moscow ladies, good friends of the commander 
of the corps, were going to the theatre of war, and to 
his hospital, in the capacity of Sisters of Mercy. 

The town was full of soldiers. The red lapels of the 
generals, the gold and silver lace of the officers, and 
the yellow and cinnamon blouses of the lower ranks 
gleamed everywhere. The men were constantly as- 
suming attitudes and shamming to each other. Every- 
thing looked strange and queer. 

On my uniform there were silver buttons, and on my 
shoulders tinsel silver straps. On the basis of these, 
every soldier was obliged to draw himself up respect- 
fully in front of me and to use antiquated phrases, such 
as "Precisely so, sir," "By no means, sir," "I will try, 
sir." On the same basis I was obliged to evince a deep 
respect for every old man if his cloak had a red hn- 
ing and a red stripe ran down his trousers. 

I learned that I had no right to smoke in the pres- 
ence of a general, nor to sit down without his permis- 
sion. I learned that any general could arbitrarily put 
me under arrest for a month, while my chief surgeon 
might lock me up for a week. And all this would hap- 



AT HOME 15 

pen without any right of appeal, even without any 
right on my part to ask for an explanation of my ar- 
rest. I myself might exercise the same power over 
the lower ranks under my command. A certain novel 
atmosphere was created, and it was perceptible that 
men were getting drunk from their power over other 
men, and that their souls were tuned anew in a man- 
ner which only provoked smiles. 

This intoxicating atmosphere acted in a curious way 
upon the feeble head of one of the physicians who had 
been called from the reserve. This was Dr. Vasilev, 
that same senior surgeon to whom Sultanov, upon de- 
parting for Moscow, turned over the task of organizing 
the hospital. Psychically unbalanced, painfuUy pufFed- 
up by egotism, Vasilev was simply crazed by the power 
and respect with which he suddenly found himself sur- 
rounded. 

One day he entered the office of his hospital. When 
the chief surgeon, who enjoyed the privileges of a dis- 
trict commander, entered the office, the supervising 
officer generally gave the command to the sitting clerks, 
"Arise!" When Vasilev entered, the supervisor failed 
to do this. 

Vasilev frowned, called the supervisor to one side, 
and sternly asked him why he had not given the com- 
mand to the clerks to arise. The supervisor shrugged 
his shoulders. 

"This is merely a manifestation of accepted polite- 
ness which I may show you, if I am so inclined, or 
which I may omit." 

"Pardon me. So long as I perform the duties of 
the chief surgeon, you are obliged to do it by law." 

"I know no such law." 

"Well, take the trouble to find out the law, and 
meanwhile you will go under arrest for two days." 

The officer turned to the Commander of the Division 
and told him the affair. Dr. Vasilev was called in. 



16 IN THE WAR 

The general, the commander of his staff, and two staff 
officers took up the affair, and decided that the super- 
visor was obliged to shout, "Arise!" He was freed 
from arrest, but he was transferred from the hospital 
to the line. 

When the supervisor had left, the Division Com- 
mander said to Dr. Vasilev: 

"You see, I am a general. I have served nearly forty 
years, my hair has grown grey in service, and up to 
the present time I have never put an officer under ar- 
rest. You have barely entered military service, and have 
temporarily, for a few days, had authority delegated 
to you, and you have already made haste to make use 
of this power to its fullest extent." 

In times of peace our corps did not ^xist. During 
mobilization it was evolved out of one brigade and con- 
sisted almost exclusively of reservists. The soldiers 
had forgotten discipline and were oppressed by cares 
for their families. Many of them did not even know 
how to handle the rifles of the new pattern. They were 
going to the war, while the youthful, fresh armies, con- 
sisting of soldiers of the line, remained in Russia. It 
was rumored that Minister of War Sakharov was quite 
hostile to Kuropatkin, and was purposely sending the 
very worst regiments to the Far East in order to hurt 
his reputation. The rumors were persistent, and in 
his conversations with the reporters Sakharov was 
obliged to justify himself vehemently for his incompre- 
hensible manner of action. 

At the Staff, I made the acquaintance of the local 
Division Surgeon. He was about to retire on account 
of illness, and was just serving out his last days. He 
was a very dear and kind-hearted old man, a pitiful 
object whom life had treated cruelly. Out of curiosity 
I went with him to the local military lazaretto to attend 
the sitting of the Commission which examined the sol- 



AT HOME IT 

diers who reported themselves as sick. They had mo- 
bihzed even the reservists of the very earliest classes : 
before our eyes passed an endless row of rheumatics, 
emphysematics, toothless men, men afflicted with vari- 
cose veins. The chairman of the Commission, a fine 
major of cavalry, wrinkled his brow and complained 
that there were too many "protesters." I, on the con- 
trary, marvelled at the fact that the presiding sur- 
geons were not "protesting" against so many who were 
obviously disabled. At the end of the meeting one 
of the surgeons of the Commission turned to my 
friend : 

"While you were away, we declared a man unfit for 
service. Take a look at him, and see whether we ought 
to free him. It is a bad case of varicocele." 

The soldier was brought in. 

"Take off your trousers !" the Division Surgeon said 
in a peculiar, suspicious voice. "Oh ! That's it ! Non- 
sense! No, no, we can't free him!" 

"Your Excellency, I can't walk at all," the soldier 
said in a gruff way. 

The old physician flew up in a rage. 

"You're a liar! You are malingering! You can 
walk nicely! My good fellow, I have a worse caSe of 
it than you ! That's all nonsense, indeed !" He turned 
to my friend. "The most of them are like that. 
Scoundrel! Son of a b !" 

The soldier put on his clothes, looking superciliously 
and with malice at the Division Surgeon. After having 
dressed, he slowly walked towards the door with a 
shambling gait. 

"Walk decently!" yelled the old surgeon, furious- 
ly stamping his feet. "Don't sprawl that way! 
Walk straight ! My friend, you can't bamboozle 



me I 



I" 



They exchanged glances full of hate. The soldier 
walked out. , . . 



18 IN THE WAR 

In the regiments the senior military surgeons kept 
telhng the junior surgeons who had been summoned 
from the reserves: 

"You are unacquainted with the conditions of mili- 
tary service. Treat the soldiers sternly, and keep in 
mind that they are unusual patients. They are all 
remarkable cheats and malingerers." 

One soldier came to the- senior regimental surgeon 
complaining of a pain in his feet, which made it hard 
for him to walk. There were no external symptoms, 
and the surgeon scolded the soldier and drove him away. 
The junior regimental surgeon followed after the sol- 
dier, examined him carefully, and found a typical pro- 
nounced case of flat instep. The soldier was dis- 
charged. A few days later the same junior surgeon 
was present as the surgeon of the day during target 
practice. The soldiers were returning home, and one 
fell very much behind, and limped heavily on one foot. 
The surgeon asked him what the matter was. 

"I have a pain in my legs. Only, it is an internal 
trouble. You can't see anything from without," the 
soldier answered in a reserved and gloomy way. 

The surgeon made an investigation. There turned 
out to be a complete absence of knee-jerk reflexes. 
Naturally, the soldier was discharged. 

So these were the scoundrels. And they were dis- 
charged only because the young surgeon was "unac- 
quainted with the conditions of military service." 

It goes without saying, it was a painful sensation to 
send all this ailing, crippled mass of old men to war. 
Besides, it really did not pay to receive them, for, after 
they had travelled seven thousand versts to the Far 
East, they were knocked out after the first forced 
march. They filled the hospitals, the etapes, and the 
companies of the disabled, and a few months later these 
perfectly useless men, who had cost a lot of money to 
the government, were returned to Russia. 



AT HOME 19 

All this time the town was living in terror and agi- 
tation. Noisy crowds of newly-drafted soldiers walked 
about the town, robbing passers-by, and demolishing 
the saloons of the government monopoly. They said, 
"Let them take us to court ! We have got to die any- 
way!" In the evening the soldiers attacked near the 
camp fifty women who were returning from the brick- 
yards, and violated them. The rumor spread in the 
market-place that the reservists were planning a great 
riot. 

From the East there kept coming news of great Jap- 
anese victories and of clever scouting exploits of Rus- 
sian captains and lieutenants. The newspapers said 
that the Japanese victories in the mountainous regions 
were not surprising, for they were born mountaineers. 
But the war was now passing over to the plains, where 
we could deploy our cavalry, and things would go quite 
differently. We were informed that the Japanese were 
entirely out of money and men, and that the depleted 
ranks of soldiers were being filled with fourteen-year 
old boys and decrepit old men. Kuropatkin, who was 
carrying out his totally incomprehensible plan, was re- 
treating to the powerfully fortified Liao-yang. The 
military observers wrote, "The bow is bent, the string 
is tautly-drawn, and soon the death-dealing arrow will 
fly, with terrible strength, into the very heart of the 
enemy." 

Our officers looked cheerfully into the future. They 
said that a turning-point in the war was coming, that 
Russian victory was certain, and that our corps would 
hardly have to be in action. We were needed there 
only for our forty thousand bayonets, at the signing of 
the treaty of peace. 

In the beginning of August the echelons of our corps 
went to the Far East. Just before the departure an 
officer shot himself in a hotel. A soldier went to the 
bake-shop in the Old Market and bought a pound of 



^0 IN THE WAR 

terns e-bread. Ite asked for a knife with which to cut 
the loaf, and with it cut his throat. Another soldier 
shot himself near the camp with a rifle. I once went 
to the railroad station as an echelon was departing. 
There was a big crowd of people there, among them 
representatives of the city. The Division Commander 
was haranguing the departing soldiers, wishing them 
Godspeed. He said that first of all we must revere 
God, that we had begun the war with God's aid, and 
that we should finish it with His aid. The bell rang, 
and people were exchanging farewells. The air was 
filled with the weeping and lamentations of the women ; 
drunken soldiers took their places in the cars, and the 
public showered money, soap and cigarettes on the de- 
parting soldiers. Near a car a junior sergeant was bid- 
ding his wife good-bye, and weeping like a child. His 
mustachioed, sunburnt face was drenched with tears, 
and his lips twitched and quivered with grief. His wife, 
too', was sunburnt, and her distorted face showed 
prominent cheek-bones. In her arms was a suckling 
babe in a cap made from bright-colored rags. The 
woman swayed with her sobbing, and the infant in her 
arms shook like a Jeaf in the wind. The husband sobbed 
and kissed the distorted face of the woman, kissed her 
lips and her eyes, while the babe swayed to and fro. 
It was strange to see a man sobbing so out of love for 
such an ugly woman; and tears came to the eyes and 
a lump rose in the throat from hearing the lamenta- 
tions and explosive sobs all about. The eyes hung 
eagerly upon the cars filled with men; how many of 
them will return.'' How many of them will He as corpses 
in the distant, blood-drenched fields.'' 

"Well, take your seats ! Get into the cars !" the ser- 
geants shouted, hurrying the soldiers. They lifted the 
junior sergeant by his arms into the car. He groaned 
and struggled to reach the sobbing woman with the 
babe swaying in her arms. 



AT HOME 21 



•i 



«i 



'How can a soldier weep?" a sergeant-major said 
in a stern, reprimanding voice. 

"Oh, holy mother!" plaintively resounded some wom- 
en's voices. 

"Step aside!" the gendarmes kept repeating, pushing 
the crowd away from the cars. But the crowd imme- 
diately swept back, and was again driven off by the 
gendarmes. 

"What makes you so eager, mercenary souls .^^ 
Haven't you any pity.^"' somebody in the crowd ex- 
claimed indignantly. 

"Pity-f^ Of course I have!" the gendarme replied 
with a voice of authority. "But what are you going 
to do with people that kill themselves and kill others.? 
Why, they throw themselves under the wheels. We 
have got to look out." 

The train started. The lamentations of the women 
increased in intensity. The gendarmes kept pushing 
the crowd back. A soldier ran forward, rapidly crossed 
the platform, and started to hand a bottle of vodka 
to the departing men. Suddenly the commander shot 
up as though from the earth in front of the soldier. 
He tore the bottle out of the soldier's hands, and hit 
it against the flagstone. The bottle broke into atoms. 
A threatening murmur spread among the onlookers, 
and in the slowly-moving cars. The soldier flashed up 
with anger, and grimly bit his lips. 

"You have no right to break the bottle !" he shouted 
at the officer. 

"Wha-at.?" 

The commander swung back his hand and with all 
his strength slapped the soldier's face. Immediately 
an armed guard made its appearance and surrounded 
the soldier. 

The cars moved faster and faster, and the drunken 
soldiers and the onlookers shouted "Hurrah!" The 
sergeant's ugly wife swayed, and, dropping the baby 



22 IN THE WAR 

from her arms, fell senseless to the ground. A by- 
stander caught the child in time. 

The train began to disappear in the distance. The 
Division Commander crossed the platform towards the 
arrested soldier. 

"So you, my dear fellow, have taken it upon yourself 
to scold the officer, eh?" he said. 

The soldier stood, pale, restraining as best he could 
the rage which agitated him. 

"Your Excellency! I should have preferred that 
he had spilled as much of my blood as he has of the 
vodka. It is in vodka only that we live, Your Ex- 
cellency." 

The bystanders crowded about them. 

"It was the officer who slapped his face. General, 
please inform us whether there is such a law." 

The Division Commander pretended not to hear. He 
glanced at the soldier through his glasses and said, em- 
phasizing his words: 

"Have him court-martialled ! Take him to the prison 
ward ! Have him flogged ! Take him away !" 

The general walked off, repeating slowly and dis- 
tinctly : 

"Have him court-martialled ! Take him to the prison 
ward! Have him flogged! Take him away!" 



CHAPTER II 



ON THE WAY 



Our echelon departed. 

The train stood far away from the platform, on the 
reserve track. Soldiers, peasants, artisans and women 
crowded around the cars. For the past two weeks the 
monopoly saloons had been closed, but most of the sol- 
diers were drunk. Through the oppressive, sad weep- 
ing of the women were borne the lively tunes of the 
harmonica and jests and laughter. Leaning with his 
back towards the base of the electric lamp sat a nose- 
less peasant in a torn gaberdine, munching a piece of 
bread. 

Our supervisor, a lieutenant who had been summoned 
from the reserves, dressed in his new blouse and glit- 
tering shoulder straps, walked somewhat nervously up 
and down in front of the train. 

"Take your places in the cars!" was heard his 
haughty and commanding voice. 

The crowd was at once agitated. Parting greetings 
were exchanged. A tottering, drunken soldier pressed 
his lips to the lips of an old woman in a black kerchief, 
and kissed her passionately again and again. It was 
a painful sight — it looked as though he would press 
her teeth out. At last he tore himself away and rushed 
to embrace a blithely smiling, broad-bearded peasant. 
The melancholy lamentations of the women were borne 
through the air Hke the howling of a snowstorm. Now 
they sounded like broken, choking sobs ; now they grew 
weaker, now stronger. 

23 



M IN THE WAR 

"Women, away from the cars!" sternly shouted the 
lieutenant, walking up and down beside the train. 

A sandy-bearded soldier looked with sober and 
austere eyes out of the car and addressed the lieuten- 
ant: 

"Your Honor, you have no right to drive our women 
away," he exclaimed harshly. "You have been given 
the power over us, so shout at us ; but don't touch our 
women." 

"That's so. You have no power over the women," 
mumbled other voices. 

The supervisor blushed, but pretended that he did 
not hear, and said in a softer voice: 

"Close the doors. The train will soon start." 

The conductor's whistle was heard, the train jarred, 
and began to move. 

"IHurrah!" came the thundering sounds from the 
cars and from the bystanders. 

Amidst the sobbing, helplessly swaying women who 
were supported by the men, suddenly flashed the nose- 
less face of the peasant in the torn gaberdine. From 
his bloodshot eyes tears streamed down over his mu- 
tilated countenance, and his lips twitched. 

"Hurrah!" was thundered through the air, while 
the rumble of the wheels grew louder and louder. In 
the front car a soldier chorus started to sing inhar- 
moniously the Lord's Prayer. Along the roadbed, at 
some distance from the train, strutted the broad- 
bearded peasant with a blissful, flushed face. He swung 
his arms, and opening wide his dark red mouth, shouted 
"Hurrah!" 

Just then groups of railway workers in blue blouses 
came towards the train from their shops. 

"Good fellows, may you return in good health!" 
shouted one. Another threw his cap high into the air. 

"Hurrah!" was the answer from the cars. 

The train rumbled and increased its speed. A 



ON THE WAY 25 

drunken soldier leaned to his waist out of the high, 
small window of the freight car and continued shouting 
"Hurrah!" His open-mouthed profile stood out dark 
against the background of the blue heavens. Men and 
buildings receded. He swung his cap to the telegraph 
poles and continued shouting "Hurrah!" 

The supervisor entered our compartment. He was 
sad and agitated. 

"Have you heard this story .f^ Officers just told me 
at the station that soldiers yesterday killed Colonel 
Lukashov. They were drunk and started shooting 
from the cars at a herd that was passing by. He tried 
to stop them, and so they killed him." 

"I heard it differently," I retorted. "He treated 
the soldiers very brutally and they promised before 
departing that they would kill him on the way." 

"Yes !" The supervisor was silent for a moment, 
and looked with wide-open eyes in front of him. "Yes, 
one has to be more careful with them!" 

In the cars of the common soldiers they kept drink- 
ing without cessation. Nobody knew how or where the 
soldiers got the vodka. But they had all they wanted. 
Day and night, songs, drunken conversations, and 
laughter could be heard in the cars. Whenever the 
train left a station the soldiers cheered in a confused 
and feeble manner, and the bystanders, who had become 
accustomed to the travelling echelons, looked at them 
in silence and with indifference. 

The same feeble eff^ort could be observed in the mer- 
riment of the soldiers. They meant to be as jolly as 
possible and to have a continuous good time; but they 
were not successful. They were drunk, but none the 
less they felt lonely. Corporal Suchkov, ex-shoemaker, 
danced with abandon at every stop, as though he were 
performing a duty. The soldiers crowded around him. 

Lean and lank Suchkov, with his chintz shirt tucked 



26 IN THE WAR 

into his trousers, clapped his hands, bent his knees, 
and danced to the sound of the harmonica. His mo- 
tions were slow and provokingly sluggish, his body 
swayed limply as though it were without bones, and his 
legs dangled lazily forward. Then he caught the tip 
of his boot in his hand and continued dancing on one 
foot. His body still swayed and strangely balanced 
on one leg, in spite of his beastly intoxication. Then 
he suddenly leaped up and started the steps of a jig; 
again his dangling legs flew forward, and his appar- 
ently boneless body swayed with the same provoking, 
sluggish movements. 

Laughter was heard all around. 

"Can't you step it more lively. Uncle.?" 

"Say, friend, go behind the gate, have a good cry, 
and then come back and dance!" 

"He's got just one joint, and that's all he shows!" 
said the surgeon's assistant of the company, throwing 
up his hands and walking away. 

But Suchkov himself was getting dissatisfied with 
the sluggishness of his motions, which kept him from 
dancing jauntily. He suddenly stopped, beat the floor 
with his foot, and furiously struck his breast with his 
fist. 

"Well, strike your breast once more! There is a 
fine hollow sound in it !" the sergeant-major said, laugh- 
ing. 

"Stop your dancing! Leave some for to-morrow!" 
some soldiers exclaimed sternly, as they crawled back 
into the cars. 

At times, for no particular reason, they would start 
dancing madly at some small station. The pavement 
resounded with the clatter of their heels, the mighty 
bodies swayed, squatted, bounced up like balls, and 
insanely jolly shouts and squeaks were borne over the 
sunburnt steppes. 

Our Corps Commander caught up with us on the 



ON THE WAY ^7 

Samara-Zlatoust Road. He was travelling in a spe- 
cial car of the express train. Everything was in a 
flutter. The pale supervisor in agitation drew up the 
company in front of the train, "just as they were," as 
the Corps Commander had ordered. The most intoxi- 
cated soldiers were put away in the back cars. 

The general crossed the rails to the fourth track, 
where our echelon stood, and reviewed the soldiers 
standing in line. He put a few questions to some 
of them. They answered coherently, but tried 
not to breathe upon the general. He went back 
silently. 

Alas, not far from the car of the Corps Commander, 
amidst a crowd of onlookers, Suchkov was dancing on 
the platform. He was dancing and urging on a co- 
quettish, buxom chambermaid to dance with him. 

"What do you want before you will dance.? Roast 
sausage .f^" 

The chambermaid laughed and disappeared in the 
crowd. Suchkov rushed after her. 

"You vixen, look out! I've got an eye on you!" 

The supervisor nearly fainted. 

"Call him away!" he hissed in anger to the other 
soldiers. 

The soldiers grabbed Suchkov under the arms and 
carried him off. Suchkov cursed, yelled, and fought. 
The general and the Staff Commander silently threw 
side glances at him. 

A minute later the chief surgeon stood at attention 
before the Corps Commander, with his hand to his 
cap. The general angrily said something to him, and 
went back with the Staff Commander to his car. 

The Staff Commander came back. Striking his 
lacquered boot with an elegant riding-crop, he turned 
to the chief surgeon and the supervisor. 

"His Excellency sternly reprimands you. We have 
come past many an echelon, — they presented themselves 



28 IN THE WAR 

in excellent order. But with you the whole company 
is drunk." 

"Colonel, we can't do anything with them." 

"You had better give them some rehgious tracts to 
read." 

"It doesn't do any good. They read them and go on 
drinking." 

"Well, then — " the colonel swished his crop through 
the air emphatically, and said: "Try it! It helps a 
lot!" 

This conversation took place not two weeks later 
than the issue of the imperial manifesto for the com- 
plete abolition of corporal punishment. 

We crossed the Urals. All about us were the steppes. 
The echelons crept slowly, one after the other, and 
there were endless stops at the stations. We did not 
make more than one hundred and fifty to two hundred 
versts in twenty-four hours. 

The same drunkenness was present in all the eche- 
lons. The soldiers rioted and robbed the railway lunch- 
counters and villages. There was little discipline, and 
it was no easy matter to keep that up. The discipline 
was all based on fear, but the men knew that they were 
going to their death, so how could they be frightened.'* 
Death would come anyway, and any other punishment 
would be better than death. Here is the kind of scene 
that took place. 

The commander of the echelon walks over to the sol- 
diers who are lined up in front of the train. On the 
flank stands a sergeant, smoking a cigarette. 

"What is this? You are a sergeant, and you do 
not know that smoking is not permitted in the line!" 

"Why not.? Tut, tut, why may I not smoke?" the 
sergeant calmly asks, puffing at his cigarette. And it 
is obvious that what he is after is to be court-martialled. 

In our car, life went on monotonously and evenly. 



ON THE WAY 29 

We four junior surgeons were travelling in adjoining 
compartments. The four were the senior assistant sur- 
geon Grechikhin, and the junior assistants, Selyukov, 
Shantser, and I. They were all a fine lot of men, and 
we became intimately acquainted. We read, discussed, 
and played chess. 

Occasionally Chief Surgeon Davydov came to us 
from his separate compartment. He told us a great 
deal about the conditions of service of an army surgeon, 
and about the disorders reigning in the Department of 
War. He told us of his conflicts with the authorities, 
and of his noble and independent attitudes in these 
conflicts. In his stories one felt boastfulness and a 
desire to fall in with our views. He had little intel- 
ligence, his jokes were cynical, and his opinions were 
common and banal. 

The supervisor, the lieutenant from the reserve, was 
everywhere at Davydov's heels. Before the mobilization 
he had served as a Zemstvo commander. It was ru- 
mored that, thanks to influential protection, he man- 
aged to escape the line, and to be appointed as super- 
visor of the hospital. He was a well-formed, fine-look- 
ing man of about thirty years of age. He was dull of 
intellect, arrogant, conceited, and hopelessly lazy and 
inefficient. His relations with the chief surgeon were 
excellent. He looked gloomily and sadly at the future. 

"I know I shall not return from the war. I drink 
an awful lot of water, and the water is very bad, so I 
am sure I shall catch typhoid fever or dysentery. Any- 
way, a Hung-hutz bullet will fetch me. I do not figure 
on getting home alive." 

With us travelled an apothecary, a priest, two spe- 
cial officials, and four Sisters of Mercy. The Sisters 
were simple, uneducated girls. They mispronounced 
words, felt off^ended at our harmless jokes, and con- 
fusedly laughed at the ambiguous jests of the chief 
surgeon and the supervisor. 



so IN THE WAR 

At the long stops we were overtaken by the echelon 
in which the second hospital of our Division was trav- 
elling. From the car came handsome Dr. Sultanov, 
with his magnificent, languid gait, and upon his arm 
was a tall, elegantly-dressed lady. This, everybody 
said, was his niece. And the other Sisters were also 
dressed very fashionably and spoke French, and the 
officers of the Staff were always hanging around them. 

Sultanov was not much interested in his hospital. 
His men and horses went hungry. One morning early, 
during a stop, our chief surgeon drove to town, where 
he bought hay and oats. The provender was brought 
and deposited on a platform between our echelon and 
that of Sultanov. Sultanov, who had just awakened, 
looked out of the window. Davydov walked up and 
down the platform, busy with his thoughts. Sultanov 
triumphantly pointed to the provender. 

"So here I have my oats already," he said. 

"Ye-es," Davydov replied, ironically. 

"You see? And the hay, too." 

"And the hay? Superb! Only I will have all this 
put at once into our cars." 

"How so?" 

"Just so, because it is I who bought it." 

"Oh, and I thought it was my supervisor." Sultanov 
yawned lazily, and turned to his niece who stood near- 
by : "Well, had we not better go to the station to get 
some coffee?" 

Hundreds on hundreds of versts. The country is 
as flat as a table, and only occasionally does one see 
small thickets. There are hardly any ploughed fields 
— nothing but meadows. Here and there one may see 
the green stubble of a newly-mowed clearing, and the 
dark hayricks and mows. Most of the meadows have 
not been mown. The brown, scorched grass waves with 
the wind, and the seeds rattle in the dry pods. The 



ON THE WAY 31 

chief of a local peasant commune travelled for a short 
distance with our echelon. He told us that there were 
no hands to be had, that all the adult men, including 
the reservists, had been summoned to the war. The 
meadows were being ruined, the fields remained unculti- 
vated. 

One evening, somewhere in the neighborhood of 
Kainsk, our train suddenly began to give alarm whis- 
tles, and abruptly stopped. An orderly came running 
in, telling us excitedly that we had just escaped col- 
liding with another train. Similar alarms repeated 
themselves frequently. The railway hands were over- 
tired and they were not permitted to leave under threat 
of court-martial. The cars were old and worn-out; 
now an axle got overheated, now the cars broke loose 
from one another, now the train overshot the stop. 

We left the car. In front of our train could be seen 
another. The engines stood glaring at each other with 
their round lights, like two enemies who have met on 
a narrow path. At both sides of the track lay clear- 
ings covered with tufted reed-grass. In the distance, 
amidst some shrubs, could be seen the dark hay-ricks. 
The other train began to back up. Our train, too, 
started to whistle. Suddenly I saw a number of our 
soldiers running out from the bushes and across the 
clearing, with enormous bundles of hay in their arms. 

"Oh, there, throw away the hay," I shouted. 

They continued to run towards the train. From 
the cars of the soldiers were heard shouts of encour- 
agement. 

"Not at all ! So long as they have reached the train, 
the hay is ours !" 

The chief surgeon and the supervisor looked with 
curiosity out of the car-window. 

"Throw away the hay at once! Do you hear.f"' I 
yelled furiously. 

The soldiers threw away their armfuls on the ground 



S2 IN THE WAR 

and, growling in dissatisfaction, crawled into the mov- 
ing train. I entered the car, greatly provoked. 

"The devil take it ! You are beginning to loot right 
here, among your own people ! And without any 
ceremony, in the presence of everybody !" 

"But the hay hasn't any value here. It is going to 
rot in the stacks anyway," the chief surgeon answered 
lazily. 

I was amazed. 

"I beg your pardon. I can't understand it. You 
yourself heard only yesterday what the chief of the 
village commune said. On the contrary, hay is very 
expensive here, and there is nobody to do the mowing. 
The commissariat department is paying forty kopeks 
a pud. Above all, this is looting, and must not be 
admitted in principle." 

"All right. Of course. Nobody denies it," the chief 
surgeon hastened to reply. 

The conversation left a strange impression on me. 
I had expected that the chief surgeon and the super- 
visor would be provoked, that they would collect a 
detachment, and would issue an emphatic command to 
stop looting. But they looked with the deepest uncon- 
cern upon what had taken place. The orderly, who 
had listened to our conversation, remarked with a re- 
served smile: 

"For whom are the soldiers taking this hay? For 
the horses. This is a gain for the government, they 
don't have to pay for it." 

Then suddenly what had surprised me three days 
ago became clear to me: the chief surgeon had, at a 
small station, bought up a thousand puds of oats at 
an exceedingly low price. He returned to the car, sat- 
isfied with himself, and beaming. 

"I have just bought some oats at forty-five kopeks," 
he informed us, triumphantly. 

I wondered whether it was really true that he re- 



ON THE WAY 33 

joiced at having saved some hundreds of rubles to 
the treasury. Now his enthusiasm became more com- 
prehensible to me. 

At every station the soldiers grabbed anything they 
could lay their hands on. Frequently I could not 
make out of what good it was to them. If they ran 
across a dog, they would seize him and place him on 
an open freight car amidst the carriages. A few days 
later the dog would run away, and the soldiers would 
catch another. I once took a look at such an open 
car. On the hay lay a red wooden bowl, a small iron 
kettle, two axes, a stool, and a wooden pail. All this 
was booty. At a siding I left the car to take a short 
walk. In the mowing stood a rusty iron stove. Our 
soldiers were suspiciously crowding about it, looking 
at me and smiling. I went back to my car, and they 
were all in a flutter. A few minutes later I came out 
again. The stove was gone from the mowing, the 
soldiers were ducking under the cars, and in one of 
the cars something heavy was being moved. 

"They'll steal and hide away a live man!" a sol- 
dier who was sitting on the mowing said to me 
merrily. 

One evening, at the station of Khilok, I left the train 
to ask a boy whether I could not buy some bread there. 

"Up there on the hill lives a Jewish merchant, but 
he has locked himself up." 

"What for?" 

"He is afraid." 

"What is he afraid of.?" 

The boy was silent. A soldier passed by with a ket- 
tle of boiling water in his hand. 

"If we grab everything in day time, we shall cer- 
tainly carry off the shop, together with the Jew, at 
night time," he explained to me as he ran on. 

At the long stops our soldiers built big fires and 
made soups with chickens which came God only knows 



S4j in the war 

whence; or they singed pigs which, they claimed, had 
been run over by the train. 

Frequently they made their acquisitions in accord- 
ance with very sly and clever plans. At one time we 
made a long stop at a small station. A tall, lean, 
drunken Little-Russian, by the name of Kucherenko, 
the wit of our detachment, was acting the fool in the 
clearing near the train. He had thrown over himself 
a piece of matting, and was swaying to and fro as 
though drunk. A soldier laughingly pushed him into' 
the gutter. Kucherenko rummaged about in there for 
a little while and then crawled back. He was bent up 
and was laboriously dragging a rusty iron stove-pipe. 

"Chentlemen, we shall haf moosic now. Blease don't 
pother me," he announced, pretending to be a for- 
eigner. 

He was suddenly surrounded by soldiers and by 
the inhabitants of the station village. Kucherenko, 
with the matting on his shoulders, handled the stove- 
pipe as a bear handles his log. He moved his hand 
about the stove-pipe, with a majestic and serious look, 
as though he were turning the crank of an organ, and 
he sang out in a hoarse voice : 

"Why do you, mad one, oho, ohay!" 

Kucherenko represented a broken-down hurdy-gurdy 
so well that everybody around him, the villagers, the 
soldiers, and we, burst into guffaws. He took off his 
cap and passed it around. 

"Chentlemen, blease gif someding to a boor Italian 
moosician for his labors." 

Warrant-officer Smetannikov handed him a rock. 
Kucherenko perplexedly shook his head over the rock 
and whirled it at Smetannikov, who was running away. 

"Get to your cars !" the command was heard. The 
engine whistled, and the soldiers rushed headlong back 
to the cars. 



ON THE WAY 85 

At the next stop they cooked soup over an open 
fire. Chickens and ducks were thick in the kettle. Two 
of our Sisters walked up to the fire. 

"Sisters, won't you have some chicken?" the soldiers 
asked. 

"Where did you get chickens from?" 

The soldiers laughed slyly. 

"That's what they gave to the musician for his 
labor." 

It turned out that while Kucherenko had distracted 
the attention of the villagers, other soldiers had cleared 
the barn-yards of the fowls. The Sisters reproached 
them and told them that it was not right to steal. 

"What is there wrong about it? We are in the 
Tsar's service, and we have got to eat. We haven't 
had any warm food for three days, and you can't buy 
anything at the stations, because the bread has not 
been baked. Are we to die of starvation?" 

"We didn't do much," remarked another. "But look 
at those from K. They have swiped two whole cows." 

"Just think of it. Let us say that you have a cow 
at home, and suddenly Orthodox people take her away. 
Wouldn't that be a shame? It's exactly the same here. 
It may be the peasant's last cow that they have stolen, 
and he is killing himself with grief." 

"Well!" The soldier swung his arms. "Don't our 
people cry? They are crying everywhere." 

As we approached Krasnoyarsk, news of the Liao- 
yang battle began to reach us. At first, as usual, the 
despatches announced an expected victory, the retreat 
of the Japs, the capture of guns. Then came des- 
patches with dim, ill-omened hints, and finally, the usual 
announcement of a retreat "in good order." The men 
eagerly grabbed the newspapers and scanned the des- 
patches ; it was clear that we were beaten in this battle 
also, that impregnable Liao-yang had been taken, that 



36 IN THE WAR 

"the mortiferous arrow" with "the tautly-drawn 
string" had impotentlj fallen to the ground, and that 
we were in flight again. 

A gloomy and oppressive spirit penetrated the 
echelons. 

One evening we sat in the small hall of an insignifi- 
cant station and ate miserable soup that had been 
heated up a dozen times or more. A number of eche- 
lons happened to come together here, and the hall was 
filled with officers. In front of us sat a tall second- 
captain with sunken cheeks, and near him a taciturn 
lieutenant-colonel. 

The second-captain shouted at the top of his voice : 

"The Japanese officers have given up their pay and 
keep, and are sharing their rations with the soldiers. 
The Minister of Public Instruction has entered the 
service as a private, in order to serve his country. No 
one considers his life, every one is ready to give it up 
for his country. Why? Because they have an idea. 
Because they know what they are fighting for. And 
they are all educated, and all the soldiers can read and 
write. Every soldier has a compass and a plan, and 
can give an intelligent account of the task which he 
is set to do. From the Marshal to the lowest private, 
all are filled with the one idea of victory over the enemy. 
And so, too, thinks the commissariat." 

The second-captain talked of what everybody knew 
from the newspapers, but he talked as though he had 
specially studied it, while nobody around him knew 
anything about it. An inexpressibly stout, drunken 
captain was making a disturbance near the counter, 
and quarrelling about something with the keeper of 
the refreshment room. 

"And how is it with us?" continued the second-cap- 
tain. "Who of us knows what the war is for? Who 
of us is enthusiastic? All we talk about is travelling 
expenses. We are driven like sheep. Our generals do 



ON THE WAY 37 

nothing but quarrel with each other. Our commissary 
officers steal. Look at the boots of our soldiers — in 
two months they'll be worn to shreds. And yet these 
boots have been accepted by twenty-five commissions." 

"They could not have rejected them," our chief sur- 
geon said in support of his statement. "The leather 
was neither acid nor rotten." 

"Yes, and then the soles drop off after the first rain. 
Tell me, can such soldiers he victorious, or not?" 

He talked loudly and everybody listened to him sym- 
pathetically. Our supervisor looked timidly about him. 
He felt uncomfortable amidst these bold and loud re- 
marks, and he retorted that it was all a question of 
how the boots were made, for he himself had seen the 
leather of the commissariat and could bear witness to 
it that it was excellent. 

"As you wish, gentlemen," the supervisor announced, 
in his full, self-confident voice. "It isn't at all a ques- 
tion of boots, but of the military spirit. If the spirit 
is all right, we can beat the enemy no matter what 
boots we have on." 

"If you are barefoot and have sores on your legs, 
you won't beat anybody," retorted the second-captain. 

"But is the spirit all right .f^" the lieutenant-colonel 
asked curiously. 

"It is our own fault if it isn't all right," the super- 
visor answered warmly. "We didn't know how to edu- 
cate the soldiers. You see, they need an idea; I de- 
clare, an idea! The soldiers, and we, too, are to be 
guided by military duty and not by ideas. It is not 
a soldier's business to talk of ideas; his business is to 
go silently to death." 

The fat captain, who had been making the disturb- 
ance at the counter, approached the crowd. He stood 
in silence, swayed unsteadily, and looked with bulging 
eyes at the men who were talking. 

"Gentlemen, I want to ask you a question," he in- 



38 IN THE WAR 

terrupted. "What is going to happen if I take a 
crater?" 

He moved his arms senselessly and looked per- 
plexedly at his enormous belly. 

The steppes receded, the country was getting moun- 
tainous. In the place of tiny gnarled birch trees there 
towered now mighty forests. Siberian pines rustled 
austerely and drily in the wind, and the aspens, the 
adornment of autumn, gleamed, with their tender gold, 
purple and crimson colors, through the dark needles 
of the pines. At the railway bridges and at a distance 
of every verst, guards stood, their solitary figures 
sharply outlined in the twilight amidst the gloomy 
foliage of the taiga. At night they frequently had 
encounters with bears. A few days before, they had 
found, near Krasnoyarsk, a guard dead in the em- 
brace of a bear whom he had stabbed to death. There 
were no end of bears. We were told that they got on 
the tracks at night, in order to attack the trains which 
ran over them. 

We passed Krasnoyarsk, and Irkutsk, and late in the 
night reached the Baykal station. We were met by 
the assistant of the commandant, and we were ordered 
to get the men and horses out of the cars immediately. 
The open cars with the carriages were to he shifted 
upon the ice-breakers without being unloaded. 

We sat in the small station room up to three o'clock. 
At the counter we could get nothing but tea and 
brandy, because the kitchen was being remodelled. The 
soldiers slept in heaps on the platform and in the bag- 
gage-room. Another echelon arrived. It was to cross 
on the ice-breaker with us. The echelon was very 
large; there were some twelve hundred men in it. It 
contained the reservists from the Governments of Ufa, 
Kazan and Samara, with which to supplement the de- 
pleted ranks. Among them there were Russians^ 



ON THE WAY 39 

Tatars and Mordvinians, mostly men past middle age, 
almost old men. 

We had taken notice of this ill-fated echelon on our 
way up. The shoulder-straps of the soldiers were of 
a crimson color and had neither number nor mark, and 
so we called them "the crimson detachment." The de- 
tachment was in charge of a lieutenant. To avoid 
providing for the soldiers, he gave them the regulation 
twenty-one kopeks, and left it to them to feed them- 
selves as best they could. At every station the soldiers 
raced over the platform and through the adjoining 
shops to buy food. But there wasn't enough food to 
be found for such a large number of men ; not only no 
food, but not even boiling water. When the train 
stopped, stocky, muscular figures of men leaped hur- 
riedly out of the cars and rushed to the booths on 
which there were large signs with the words, "Boiling 
Water Gratis." 

"Let us have some boiling water!" 

"There is none. We are just boiling it. The eche- 
lons have used it all up." 

They returned slowly, and others, with a look of con- 
centration on their faces, stood waiting in a long 
row. Sometimes they would get the water, but more 
frequently they ran back with empty tea-kettles to 
the moving trains. At the stops they sang with squeak- 
ing, lifeless, tenor voices, and, strange to say, they 
sang only monotonous, dull prison songs, which re- 
flected remarkably the general impression one received 
from them. 

"In vain, yes, in vain, in the prison I bide. 
In vain do I look at the freedom outside. 
Forever I'm lost, forever, I fear! 
And time goes on endlessly, year after year." 

At three o'clock a long-drawn whistle resounded 
through the dark mist of the lake, and the ice-breaker 



40 IN THE WAR 

Bayhdl approached the shore. To reach the landing 
we walked along the rails and over a seemingly endless 
platform. It was cold. The "crimson detachment" 
was drawn up in two rows along the roadhed. Carry- 
ing their equipment, with arms at the order, the sol- 
diers stood motionless, with gloomy, set faces. Un- 
familiar, guttural sounds could be heard. 

We walked up a gang-plank to some kind of bridge, 
then turned to the right, then to the left, and without 
noticing it we were on the upper deck of the steamboat. 
One could not make out where the boat began. Elec- 
tric lamps burned brightly on the quay, and in the dis- 
tance could be seen the murky mist that hung over the 
lake. Soldiers led the excited and nervously twitching 
horses over the gang-planks, while below the engine, 
whistling fitfully, pushed the cars upon the steamboat. 
Then followed the soldiers. 

In clumsy grey cloaks, loaded down with bags, with 
their arms at the trail, the soldiers kept coming in 
endless procession. At the narrow passage-way lead- 
ing to the deck, the soldiers crowded together and 
stopped. At one side, on an elevation, stood an en- 
gineer who shouted at the top of his voice : 

"Don't stop up the passage-way! Why are you 
crowding so, you devil's children .^^ Go ahead, don't 
stop !" 

With bent heads, the soldiers pushed forward. There 
followed new men and again new men — grey, gloomy 
figures, like a flock of sheep. 

Everything was loaded, and the third whistle re- 
sounded. The steamboat jolted and began to move 
slowly backward. An even, oval, sharply-outlined 
form appeared in the enormous, indistinguishable slip 
with its high scaffolding, and it immediately became 
clear where the scaffolding ended and the body of the 
steamboat began. Jolting in even motion, we were 
borne into the darkness. 



ON THE WAY 41 

The first-class saloon of the steamboat was brightly 
illuminated, warm, and comfortable. There was an 
odor of steam heat, and the state-rooms were cosy and 
warm. A lieutenant in a white-bordered cap, who was 
in charge of the "crimson detachment," stepped up to 
me. We made each other's acquaintance. He turned 
out to be a very pleasant gentleman. We lunched and 
walked the deck together. The captain of the steam- 
boat told us of the state of affairs as regards the trans- 
ference of the armies across the Baykal. The news- 
papers reported that the movement of the echelons was 
much retarded by the water-transportation, and that 
for this reason they were making haste to build the 
Circum-Baykal Railway. The captain affirmed em- 
phatically that there was no delay on the Bayhdl, and 
that it was easy to transfer eight thousand men every 
twenty- four hours. Hej explained the construction 
of the Circum-Baykal as due to the zeal of a high per- 
sonage who was anxious to receive a decoration for his 
energetic activity. 

We retired, some of us in the cabins, and some in 
the dining room. At daybreak I was awakened by my 
companion, Shantser. 

"V. V ich, get up ! You won't be sorry. I had 

intended to wake you long ago. It doesn't make any 
difference now, for we shall land in twenty minutes." 

I jumped up and washed myself. It was warm in 
the dining-saloon. Through the window I could see a 
soldier lying on the deck. He slept with his head on 
a bag, huddled under his cloak, his face blue and 
pinched with the cold. 

We went out on deck. Day was breaking. Dark- 
ling grey waves rose gloomily and slowly, and the 
surface of the water looked convex. Beyond the lake 
the distant mountains stood out in a pale blue haze. 
Fires were still burning on the quay towards which we 
were going, and frost-covered mountains, lonely and 



42 IN THE WAR 

gloomy, crowded all about the shore. Snow lay in the 
gullies and on the heights. The mountains looked as 
though they had been blackened by smoke, and the 
pine forests on them appeared like fluffy soot, such as 
one sees in long-uncleaned stove-pipes. The blackness 
was amazing. 

The lieutenant gave loud expression to his enthusi- 
asm. The soldiers sitting near the smoke-stack 
wrapped themselves in their cloaks and maintained 
a morose silence. The whole deck was filled with sol- 
diers, who crowded their neighbors and huddled under 
their cloaks. It was very cold, and the wind was keen. 
The soldiers had been freezing all night, and they tried 
to warm themselves against the smoke-stacks and the 
ventilators, or by running up and down the deck. 

The ice-breaker slowly approached the quay, en- 
tered the high, oval slip, and again was welded with the 
intricate gang-planks and ladders, so that it was once 
more impossible to tell where the steamboat ended and 
the bridges began. The assistant of the commandant 
appeared, and he addressed the customary questions 
to the officers in command of the echelons. 

Hostlers led the snorting horses down the gang- 
planks, while engines approached the lower decks and 
took oif the cars. The detachments began to move. 
The assistant of the commandant and the amiable lieu- 
tenant in the white-bordered cap were again beside 
themselves and shouted furiously at the soldiers. The 
soldiers again pushed each other gruffly and tensely, 
while carrying bags and ordering their arms, to which 
the bayonets were now attached. 

"Rascals! What are you pushing for.^^ Move on, 

you sons-of-b ! Why do you stop? You, there, 

where are you carrying the box with the cartridges? 
Come this way with the cartridges !" 

The soldiers moved fast in endless single file. Look- 
ing intently in front of him, came a middle-aged Tatar 



ON THE WAY 43 

with thick lips drooping at the corners ; then passed a 
high-cheeked hearded Permian, his face pitted from 
small-pox. They all resembled peasants, and it looked 
very strange to see ^them carying muskets in their 
hands. They walked and walked, their faces changed, 
and upon all of them lay a dormant thought, as though 
congealed by the blast of the wind. No one paid any 
attention to the officers' shouts and curses, as though 
these were as elemental as the icy wind that howled over 
the lake. 

It was daylight now. Heavy, leaden clouds scurried 
across the gloomy lake. We went from the landing 
to the station. Whistling threateningly, engines were 
shunting along the tracks. It was bitter cold. Our 
legs stiffened, and there was no place to get them warm. 
The soldiers stood or sat, crowding their neighbors, 
with the same morose, unresponsive expression on their 
faces, as though they were prepared for any suffering. 
I walked up and down the platform with our apothe- 
cary, who, with his aquiline nose on his thin face and in 
his enormous shaggy cap, did not look like a peaceful 
drug-clerk, but like a brave Cossack. 

"Where do you come from, boys.''" he asked the 
soldiers, who were huddling against the station wall. 

"We are from Kazan. Some are from Ufa and 
Samara," a small, hght-haired soldier replied reluc- 
tantly. An enormous temse-loaf stuck out from the 
tent-leaf which was tied over his shoulder. 

"Is anybody here from Timokhin district of the Gov- 
ernment of Kazan ?" 

The soldier brightened up. 

"I am from Timokhin." 

"Really.?" 

"Upon my word. He is also from Timokhin." 

"Do you know where Kamenka is.?" 

"No . . . no, sir," the soldier said, correcting him- 
self. 



44 IN THE WAR 

"Do you know Levashovo?" 

"Indeed, sir, that's where we go to market," the sol- 
dier replied, in joyful surprise. 

With a sentiment of friendship that united the two, 
they began to talk of home places, mentioning one vil- 
lage after another. And here, in a distant land, on 
the threshold of the kingdom of blood and death, 
they rejoiced at the names of villages they both knew, 
and because each pronounced these names as though 
they were familiar to him. 

In the third-class waiting-room, soldiers were mak- 
ing a noise and quarrelling with some one. The freez- 
ing soldiers asked the caretaker to light a fire in the 
stove. The caretaker refused to do so, saying that he 
had no right to fetch the wood. The soldiers scolded 
and cursed him. 

"Damn your Siberia!" the soldiers said indignantly. 
"Blindfold me, and I'll find my way home !" 

"This isn't my Siberia; I am myself from Russia," 
said the offended caretaker, in self-defence. 

"Pay no attention to him! There is a lot of wood 
here. Let us make a fire with it." 

But they didn't care to take the matter into their 
own hands. We went to the commandant to ask for 
firewood with which to light a fire in the station, for 
the soldiers had to stay there another five hours. It 
turned out that it was quite impossible to obtain the 
wood, because, according to regulations, fires are lit 
on the first of October, while it was now only the begin- 
ning of September. And there were mountains of fire- 
wood all about us! 

Our train came in. It was so cold in the cars that 
our teeth chattered and our hands and feet grew numb 
and stiff. The chief surgeon himself called on the com- 
mandant to ask that the cars be heated. This, too, was 
quite impossible, because the cars are supposed to be 
heated only on and after October first. 



ON THE WAY 45 

"Please tell me who may give the order to have the 
cars heated now?" the chief surgeon asked indignantly. 

"Wire to the Chief Commander of Transportation. 
If he so orders, I shall have the cars heated." 

"I beg your pardon. I think you have inadvertently 
made a mistake. Would it not be necessary to wire to 
the Minister of Roads of Communication? Perhaps it 
would be still better to wire directly to His Imperial 
Majesty." 

"Very well, wire to His Imperial Majesty," the com- 
mandant said, smiling gently as he turned away. 

Our train started. In the chilly cars of the soldiers 
the usual songs were not heard. Their faces were all 
pinched with the cold, and they sat close together, 
wrapped in their cold cloaks. Meanwhile the train 
passed by long piles of wood, and on the sidings stood 
long rows of winter cars, but, according to law, they 
could not yet be put to use. 

Up to the Baykal we had been travelling slowly, with 
long stops between; now, on the Trans-Baykal Road, 
we did more stopping than travelling. We stopped five 
or six hours at every siding. We would be travelling 
ten versts, and then we would stop for hours. We got 
so used to stopping that, when the cars began to jolt 
and the wheels to rumble, a sensation of something un- 
common overcame us. We barely recovered from it, 
when we stopped again. Ahead of us, near the Karym 
Station, there were three landslides on the road, and 
we could not proceed. 

It was still cold, and the soldiers froze in the icy 
cars. One coidd not get anything at the stations, 
neither meat nor eggs, nor milk. It took three or four 
days to go from one base of supplies to the next. The 
echelons remained without food for two or three days 
at a time. At the stations the soldiers paid out of their 
own money as much as nine or ten kopeks for a pound 



46 IN THE WAR 

of black bread, but not even at the larger stations 
could enough bread be supplied. The soldiers raced 
up and down the villages and asked the villagers, ''for 
Christ's sake," to sell them some bread. 

At one station we caught up with an echelon of sol- 
diers who were preceding us on the way to the front. 
In the intervening space between the two trains a crowd 
of soldiers surrounded the lieutenant-colonel who was 
in charge of the echelon. The lieutenant-colonel was 
slightly pale. He evidently was trying to put on a 
bold front, and he spoke in a loud, commanding voice. 
In front of him stood an undersized soldier, and he was 
also pale. 

"What is your name?" the lieutenant-colonel asked 
threateningly. 

"Lebedev." 

"Second company?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Very well, I'll show you ! At every station there is 
a noise. I told you yesterday to be careful with your 
bread, and you kept throwing out of the window what 
was left. Whose fault is it? There is no bread, I told 
you. Where shall I get it?" 

"We understand that no bread can be obtained here," 
replied a soldier. "But we asked Your Excellency yes- 
terday to take enough bread for two days. We all 
knew how long we would stop at every siding. 

"Shut up!" bellowed the lieutenant-colonel. "Say 
another word and I'll have you arrested! To your 
cars ! March !" 

He went away. The soldiers morosely climbed back 
into the cars. 

"Go starve and croak !" a soldier exclaimed merrily. 

Their train started. The pale, glum, pensive faces 
of the soldiers flickered in the distance. 

The hospital trains were getting more and more fre- 
quent. At the stops everybody surrounded the wounded 



ON THE WAY 47 

soldiers, eagerly asking all kinds of questions. In the 
windows one could see the dangerously wounded, with 
waxen faces and covered with bandages, lying on cots. 
There was a presentiment of the horror and terror that 
was there. 

I asked a wounded officer whether it was true that 
the Japs murdered our wounded men. The officer 
looked at me in surprise and shrugged his shoulders. 

"Don't ours murder them? Every chance they get, 
especially the Cossacks. Let a Jap get into their 
hands and they will pull out his hairs, one by one." 

On the steps of a soldiers' car sat a one-legged Si- 
berian Cossack, with a St. George pinned to his cloak. 
He had a broad, genial peasant's face. He had taken 
part in the famous attack at Yudziatun, near Wa- 
fang-kou, when two hundred Siberian Cossacks came 
down like an avalanche on a Japanese detachment and 
exterminated them with their lances. 

"They have fine horses," said the Cossack, "but their 
weapons are no good — nothing but sabres and revolv- 
ers. When we came down on them with our lances they 
acted as though they were unarmed and could not do 
anything against us." 

"How many did you stab.^" 

"Three." 

This man, with his fine, gentle face, had taken part 
in this miraculous struggle of the Centaurs. I asked 
him: 

"Well, as you were stabbing them, did you not feel 
anything in your soul?" 

"At first I didn't feel just right. I was afraid to 
kill a live man. But the moment I stabbed him and he 
fell down, my soul was all afire, and it would have given 
me pleasure to kill another dozen." 

"Aren't you sorry that you are disabled? Wouldn't 
you like to have another try at the Japs?" asked our 
clerk, the officer pro tern. 



48 IN THE WAR 

"No. I've got to think now how to feed my chil- 
dren." 

The peasant's face was clouded, and his eyes were 
bloodshot and filled with tears. 

At one of the following stations, as the echelon ahead 
of us was departing, the soldiers, at the command to 
take their seats in the cars, remained standing where 
they were. 

"To the cars ! Do you hear ?" furiously shouted the 
officer in charge of the echelon. 

The soldiers remained standing. Some of them 
would have climbed back into the cars, but their com- 
panions pulled them back. 

"We won't go any farther! We have had enough 
of it!" 

The commandant and the chief of the echelon made 
their appearance. At first they yelled, then they asked 
what it was all about, why the soldiers refused to go 
on. The soldiers had no excuse to offer, but they kept 
repeating : 

"We do not want to go on!" 

The officers tried to admonish them, and spoke of 
obedience and the authorities. The soldiers answered: 

"Give us a chance and we'll fix up matters with the 
authorities." 

Eight men were arrested, and the rest went to their 
cars and proceeded on their way. 

The train passed by wild and gloomy mountains, 
winding along a river bed. Above the train hung 
enormous masses of rocks and shifting heaps of peb- 
bles. You would think that a loud cough would bring 
all that down upon the train. On a moonlit night we 
passed an avalanche beyond the Karym Station. The 
train travelled over a hastily constructed new road- 
bed. It went very cautiously, almost stealthily, as 
though it were afraid it might touch the masses of 



ON THE WAY 49 

rocks which almost came down upon it. The old cars 
creaked, the engine puffed spasmodically as though 
holding its breath. To the right, in the swift, cold 
river, towered huge boulders and heaps of talus from 
the mountain. 

It was here that the three landslides had taken place. 
Why three, and not ten, not twenty? I looked at this 
hastily constructed mountain roadbed, and I compared 
it with the railways in Switzerland, in the Tyrol, in 
Italy, and it was clear to me that there were going to 
be another ten, nay twenty, landslides. And I thought 
of the colossal cost of this primitive road, which looked 
as though it had been constructed by savages. 

In the evening a number of echelons again gathered 
at a small station. I walked up and down the plat- 
form. My mind was filled with the accounts of wounded 
men whom I had met, and the bloody horrors which 
had taken place there stood out vividly before me. It 
was dark, the clouds scudded by high in the heavens, 
and a strong, dry wind blew in gusts. Enormous firs 
on the slope of the hill rustled in the wind, and their 
trunks creaked. A fire was burning among the pines, 
and its flames flickered in the darkness. 

The echelons were drawn up in close array. In the 
dim light of the lanterns could be seen the closely- 
cropped heads of the soldiers as they moved about on 
their cots. They were singing in the cars. From all 
sides were borne the sounds of songs, the voices blended 
together, and something mighty and expansive spread 
through the air. 

"My heroes dear, you're sleeping on. 
Amidst the storm's mad, howling breath; 
My voice will waken you anon, 
And call you to a glorious death." 

I walked up and down the platform. The long- 
drawn, manly sounds of "Ermak" died down; they 



50 IN THE WAR 

were drowned by a monotonous, mournful prison song 
wafted from another car. 

"I look into my bowl and glare: 
Two cabbage-worms are swimming there, 
And after them, in single file. 
An army swims in perfect style." 

From the detached last car came the wailing, mourn- 
ful song: 

"As I die for Holy Russia." 

And the drawling prison-song went on : 

"I throw away my spoon and cry. 
And swallow down my bit of rye. 
A prisoner, not a cur, you see. 
Just such a man as you and he." 

Two cars ahead a sound was heard as if some one 
had received a heavy blow upon his back, and with a 
shriek of wild joy the boisterous sounds of "The Vesti- 
bule" burst out upon the darkness. The shouts rever- 
berated, blending with the whoops and whistlings. 
Through the mighty male voices, like the swift darting 
of an adder, came a thin, reiterated, silvery tinkling — 
somebody was accompanying on a tumbler. They were 
beating time, and the song was borne in a madly joy- 
ous whirlwind in the face of the harsh wind. 

I went back, and again, like slowly undulating waves, 
arose the long-drawn, mournful, majestic sounds of 
"Ermak." A freight train, coming from the opposite 
direction, stopped at the station. The echelon with 
the singers moved away. Re-echoing with a muffled 
sound in the intervening space, the song rose, mighty 
and powerful, like a hymn. 

"Siberia for the Tsar is won. 
And not in vain we've lived and fought." 



ON THE WAY 51 

The trains remained standing, and then suddenly 
something seemed to give way in the mighty hymn, and 
the song, muffled and gloomy, was wafted into the cold, 
windy darkness. 

I awoke in the morning and heard beneath the win- 
dow of the car the childishly merry voice of a soldier 
exclaiming : 

"It is warm !" 

The sky was bright, the sun was shining warm. An 
endless steppe stretched into the dim distance, and the 
scorched, rusty grass swayed in the warm breeze. In 
the distance lay the gentle slopes of hills; lonely Bur- 
yats flitted by on their horses, and flocks of sheep and 
herds of dromedaries were everywhere. The super- 
visor's orderly, the Bashkir Mohamedka, eagerly 
looked out of the window, with a broad smile on his 
flat, club-nosed face. 

"Mohamed, what is the matter with you?" 

"The camels!" he replied, timidly yet joyously, while 
under the impression of familiar recollections. 

It was warm — so warm it was hard to believe that 
those gloomy, cold, disagreeable days lay behind us. 
Everywhere merry voices were heard, everywhere songs 
were being sung. 

We passed all the landslides, but continued travelling 
just as slowly, with just as long stops as before. Ac- 
cording to schedule, we should have been at Har- 
bin long ago, but we were still in the Trans-Baykal 
region. 

The Chinese border was not far off, and in our 
memory the recollection arose of what we had read in 
the newspapers about the Hung-hu-tziis, about their 
cold, beastly cruelty, about the incredible tortures to 
which they subjected the Russian prisoners. In fact, 
ever since I had been summoned there was nothing 
ahead of me that seemed so terrible as these Hung- 



52 IN THE WAR 

hu-tziis. A cold shiver passed through me at the very 
thought of them. 

At one siding our train stopped for a considerable 
time. Not far away a camp of Nomadic Buryats could 
be seen. We went down to get a look at them. We 
were surrounded by slant-eyed men, with flat, cinna- 
mon-colored faces, who watched us with curiosity. 
Naked, bronze-colored children crawled on the ground, 
and women in quaint head-dresses were smoking long 
pipes. A dirty white sheep with a fat stub-tail was 
tied to a post. The chief surgeon bought this sheep 
of the Buryats, whom he ordered to slaughter it at 
once. 

Untying the sheep, they threw it on its back, and a 
young Buryat, with a puff^ed face and a big mouth, 
sat down on its belly. Other Buryats stood around, 
looking shamefacedly at us. 

"What are they waiting for? Tell them to kill the 
sheep at once, or our train will leave," said the chief 
surgeon to the janitor of the station, who could talk 
Buryat. 

"Your Honor, they feel embarrassed. They say 
they do not know how to slaughter in the Russian fash- 
ion, and they feel timid about doing it in the Buryat 
manner." 

"What difference does that make to us? Let them 
kill it any way they want to, so they do it fast." 

The Buryats bestirred themselves. They held the 
legs and the head of the sheep to the ground, while a 
young Buryat cut open the upper part of the sheep's 
belly and put his hand through this opening. The 
sheep squirmed, its clear, foolish eyes began to roll, 
and past the Buryat's hands swarmed the pufFed-up, 
white entrails of the animal. The Buryat rummaged 
with his hand near the ribs, the guts flapped with the 
short breathings, the body jerked more strongly, and 
the sheep emitted a hoarse gurgling. An old Buryat 



ON THE WAY 53 

with an expressionless face, who was squatting on^ 
his heels, looked awry at us, and compressed the nar- 
row, soft mouth of the sheep with his hand. The young 
Buryat crushed the heart through the diaphragm, the 
sheep gave a last throb, and its rolling, bright eyes be- 
came fixed. The Buryats hastened to flay the sheep. 

These strange, flat faces were absolutely dispas- 
sionate and indifferent, and the women looked on 
calmly, puffing at their pipes and spitting upon the 
ground. The thought suddenly flashed through my 
mind: even thus the Hung-hu-tziis will slit our bellies 
open, calmly smoking their pipes and paying not the 
slightest attention to our sufferings. With a smile I 
spoke of this to my companions. They all shrugged 
their shoulders nervously, as though the same thought 
had passed through their minds. 

This absolute indifference seemed to me most ter- 
rible. In the cruel sensuality of a Bashibuziik, who 
gloats over a man's suffering, there is at least some- 
thing human and comprehensible. But these tiny, half- 
sleepy eyes, that indifferently look through their slant- 
ing lids at your immeasurable suffering, that look and 
do not see. . . . Brrrrr ! 

At last we arrived at Manchuria Station. Here we 
had to change cars. Our hospital was combined with 
Sultanov's hospital into one echelon, and we proceeded 
together. In the order of the day it was announced 
that we ^'had crossed the border of the Russian Em- 
pire and had entered the territory of the Chinese Em- 
pire. ' 

Before us stretched the same dry steppes, now level, 
now undulating, covered with rusty grass. At every 
station there was a grey brick tower with barbicans, 
and nearby a long, straw-covered signal-post. On an 
elevation stood a watch-tower on high posts. The 
echelons were cautioned in regard to the Hung-hu-tziis. 



54 IN THE WAR 

Cartridges were distributed to the detachment, and 
guards were placed on the engine and on the platform. 
We all took our revolvers out of our travelling-bags. 

At Uhunor Station, just as we stopped there, a Mon- 
gol came running from the steppe, crying out that 
the Hung-hu-tziis had killed an advance post consist- 
ing of seven soldiers. An officer galloped into the 
steppe, accompanied by nine armed frontiersmen. 

In Manchuria we were given a new schedule, and now 
we travelled on time. The train stopped at a station 
only the scheduled number of minutes, and then went 
on. It was hard for us to get used to such regularity. 

We now travelled together with Sultanov's hospital. 
The surgeons and the Sisters occupied one first-class 
car, while the attendants travelled in another. The 
surgeons of Sultanov's hospital told us all about their 
chief. He charmed everybody with his wit and his 
pleasant manner, and at times he surprised them by 
his naive and cynical frankness. He told his assistants 
that he had but lately entered military service, at the 
request of the commander of our corps. He was satis- 
fied with his service because, although he was listed as 
a junior surgeon in the regiment, he received profitable 
special appointments for considerable periods of time. 
An order might have been carried out in a week's time, 
but the appointment was given for six weeks. He was 
provided with travelling expenses, but he stayed in one 
spot, and did not attend to business, except that in the 
last week he carried out his orders. Then he would 
return home, would come to the office for a few days, 
and there would be a new appointment. Meanwhile, 
it appeared, the other surgeons of the regiment were 
doing his work, 

Sultanov remained most of the time in his compart- 
ment with his niece, Novitskaya, a tall, well-built, taci- 
turn lady. She surrounded Sultanov with enthusiastic 
attention and care, and the whole hospital, in her opin- 



ON THE WAY 55 

ion, existed only for the purpose of attending to the 
comfort of Aleksyey Leonidovich, to bring his coffee 
on time, and to get the cracknels for the soup. When 
Sultanov left his compartment, he at once monopolized 
the conversation, speaking in an indolent, pretentious 
manner, with a sarcastic leer in his eye, while all around 
him laughed at his witticism and sallies. 

The two remaining Sisters of Sultanov's hospital im- 
mediately became the centres around which the men 
gathered. One of them, Zinaida Arkadevna, was a tall, 
fine-looking lady of some thirty years, a friend of Sul- 
tanov's niece. She talked with a pleasing drawl about 
Battistini, about Sobinov, about counts and barons 
whom she knew. One could not at all understand what 
had brought her to the war. Of the other Sister, 
Vyera Nikolaevna, they said that she was the fiancee 
of an officer in our Division. She kept aloof from Sul- 
tanov's company. She was very beautiful, with the 
eyes of a wood-fairy, and with two heavy braids of hair. 
She was obviously used to being constantly courted, 
and she was accustomed to make fun of her adorers — 
you could see the little devil in her. The soldiers were 
very fond of her, and she knew them all, and attended 
to those who had fallen sick. Our own Sisters were 
thrown completely into the shade by these fascinating 
Sisters of Sultanov, whom they regarded with veiled 
hostility. 

At the stations Chinamen in blue blouses and trousers 
appeared. They squatted in front of their baskets, 
selling seeds, nuts, and Chinese dainties and cakes. 

"Oh, capital! ! You wantee seed ?" 

"Cakee.? Five kopekee a dozen. Heap sweet," 
screamed a bronze-colored, half-naked Chinaman, roll- 
ing his murderous eyes. 

In front of the officers' cars, tiny Chinese boys were 
dancing, now and then putting their hands to their 
temples, in imitation of the Russian salute, bowing and 



56 IN THE WAR 

waiting for their pennies. A crowd of Chinamen, show- 
ing their shining teeth, looked fixedly at red-cheeked 
Vyera Nikolaevna, 

"Shango (pretty)?" we proudly asked them, point- 
ing at the Sister, 

"Oho! Heap shango! Plitty!" the Chinamen has- 
tened to reply, nodding their heads. 

Zinaida Arkadevna came up. With her coquettish, 
charmingly-drawling voice, she smilingly began to ex- 
plain to a Chinaman that she would like to marry their 
Dzan-dzun. The Chinaman listened attentively, but 
he could not make out what she said, so he only shook 
his head politely and smiled. At last he caught her 
meaning. 

"Dzan-dzun, Dzan-dzun.? You, lady, wantee Dzan- 
dzun.'* Not much!" 

At one station I witnessed a brief but very fine scene. 
An officer lazily sauntered up to the car which held the 
soldiers of the line and shouted: 

"Oh, there, you devils! Send me the commander of 
the platoon !" 

"We are no devils ! We are men !" a stern but calm 
voice spoke from the inside of the car. 

Then all was quiet. The officer stiffened with rage. 

"Who said that.^^" he shouted furiously. 

A young soldier moved out from the dimness of the 
car. He saluted, and, looking at the officer with fear- 
less eyes, he answered slowly and calmly: 

"I beg your pardon, Your Honor. I thought that 
it was a soldier that was cursing and not Your Honor." 

The officer blushed lightly and, to keep up his pres- 
tige, scolded the soldier. He went away, pretending 
that he was not at all embarrassed. 

One evening a lieutenant-colonel of frontiersmen en- 
tered our car and asked for permission to travel with 



ON THE WAY 57 

us for a few stations. We naturally allowed him to 
do so. In the narrow compartment, in which the up- 
per berths had been raised, the officers were sitting 
around a small table playing cards. Others stood 
around and looked on. 

The lieutenant-colonel, too, took a seat near by and 
watched the game. 

"Tell us, please, shall we arrive at Harbin on time, 
according to the schedule .f'" Dr. Shantser asked him. 

The lieutenant-colonel raised his eyebrows in sur- 
prise. 

"On time? No, sir. You will be at least two or three 
days late." 

"Why so.^ We have been on schedule time ever since 
we left Manchuria Station." 

"Well, you will soon see for yourselves. In and 
about Harbin thirty-seven echelons are stationed, and 
they can't go forward. Two tracks are occupied by 
Aleksyeev's train, and another by Flug's train. It is 
quite impossible to shunt the trains. Besides, the 
whistles and the rumbling of the trains disturb the 
viceroy and no trains are allowed to pass at night. So 
everything is at a standstill. It would be best not to 
talk of the disorders there." 

He broke off abruptly and began to roll a cigarette. 

"What is happening there?" 

The lieutenant-colonel was silent for a moment and 
then drew a deep breath. 

"I saw it with my own eyes the other day. In a 
small, close waiting-room the officers and surgeons 
were crowded together like herrings in a barrel, and the 
tired Sisters were sleeping on their trunks. At the same 
time nobody was admitted to the large, magnificent 
hall of the new station, because Quartermaster-General 
Flug was taking his customary after-dinner constitu- 
tional there. You see, the viceroy has taken a liking 
to the new station and he has located his own staff 



58 IN THE WAR 

there, so that the new arrivals have to huddle together 
in the small, dirty, stinking old station." 

The lieutenant-colonel continued his story. He was 
apparently giving vent to his pent-up anger. He told 
of the sublime indifference of the authorities to busi- 
ness, of the chaos which was reigning everywhere, of 
the red tape which crushed everything living and every 
endeavor to work. His words boiled with indignation 
and with hatred. 

"I have a friend who is a cornet in the Primorski 
Regiment of Dragoons, a fine, brave officer, who has a 
St. George medal for a truly heroic act. He had been 
out for more than a month's scouting. Upon his re- 
turn to Liao-yang he turned to the commissariat with 
the request that he should be furnished with oats for 
his horses. 'We can't let you have it without requisi- 
tion papers.' Now, the requisition papers have to be 
signed by the regimental chief. Says he: 'For the 
Lord's sake, I haven't seen my regiment these two 
months, and I haven't a penny with which to pay you.' 
So they did not let him have the oats. A week later 
Liao-yang was abandoned and this very cornet was 
delegated, with his dragoons, to burn the enormous 
stores of oats. ... Or again, Ta-shi-chiau. The sol- 
diers had been starving for three days, and to all the 
requests the commissariat had but one answer: 'We 
have nothing.' When they retreated they opened the 
stores and gave each soldier a box with preserves, 
sugar, and tea to carry off. The anger of the soldiers 
knew no bounds and the grumbhng never stopped. 
They walked about, hungry and in rags. A friend of 
mine, a captain, looking at his company, burst out 
weeping. The Japs simply shouted: 'Oh, there, you 
beggars! Skip!' It just frightens one to think what 
it wlQ all lead to. Kuropatkin nurses the one hope that 
China will rebel." 

"China? What will bring it about.?" 



ON THE WAY 59 

"What will do it? The idea. Gentlemen, you see, 
the chief trouble with us is that we have no idea in 
this war. What are we fighting for? What are we 
fighting for? Why do we spill our blood? Neither 
you, nor I, nor, least of all, the soldiers, know. How 
is it possible, then, to bear all that the soldiers have 
to bear? What if China rebels? Then everything will 
become clear at once. They will announce that the 
Army is turned into a body of Cossacks of the Man- 
churian Region, and that every man will get a share 
of land — and the soldiers will become lions. The idea 
will make its appearance. But what is taking place 
now? There is an absolute spiritual lethargy, whole 
regiments are running away. And here we have an- 
nounced in advance that we don't want Manchuria, 
that we have no business there. We have encroached 
upon a foreign country, nobody knows why, and we 
act the hypocrite. So long as we have started out as 
scoundrels, we ought to go the whole length of scoun- 
drelism; then there will be at least some poetry in it. 
Take, for example, the English. When they undertake 
something, they make things hum." 

A solitary candle, which was burning on the card- 
table, lighted up the interested faces. The bushy mus- 
tachios of the lieutenant-colonel, with their upturned 
ends, quivered and bristled angrily. Our supervisor 
again felt uncomfortable at these loud, bold remarks, 
and timidly kept to one side. 

"Who is victorious in the war?" continued the lieu- 
tenant-colonel. "Gentlemen, this is fundamental: men 
who are united and inflamed by a common idea come 
out the victors. We have no idea, and we can't have 
any. Meanwhile the government, on its side, has done 
everything to destroy all solidarity. How do they 
make up our regiments? They pick up a few officers 
from various regiments, they get together a few hun- 
dred soldiers, and behold, 'the military unit' is ready. 



60 IN THE WAR 

We tried to do a bit of sleight-of-hand before the eyes 
of Europe ; see, all the corps are in place, and a whole 
army has just sprouted out of the ground. And the 
way they distribute decorations ! Everything is done 
in such a way as to kill all respect for a brave act, and 
to evoke nothing but contempt for Russian decora- 
tions. Wounded officers, after having passed the tor- 
ments of a whole series of battles, are lying somewhere 
in a hospital. The viceroy's orderly — ^he has ninety- 
eight of them — -walks about among them, distributing 
bed-linen. In his button-hole is a St. Vladimir with 
the swords. He is asked: *What did you get the St. 
Vladimir for.^^ For distributing bed-linen.'^' Gentle- 
men, so much is certain: over there," said the lieuten- 
ant-colonel, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb, 
"a gigantic conspiracy is taking place against Russia, 
and there is only one possible outcome: Kuropatkin is 
going to declare himself a dictator; he will arrest all 
those men, Aleksyeev, Elug, Stackelberg; will on his 
own responsibility make peace with Japan, and will, 
at the head of his army, move on St. Petersburg." 

After the lieutenant-colonel went away, there was 
a long silence. 

"In any case, he is a character," Shantser remarked. 

"Oh, Lord, how he has been fibbing!" Sultanov said, 
with a lazy smile. "Most likely the viceroy failed to 
give him a decoration." 

"There is no doubt that he was lying," Shantser ad- 
mitted. "Just take this: if they really have detained 
a dozen trains at Harbin, how is it we are travelling 
on schedule time.?" 

When we awoke next morning the train was standing 
still. How long had it been standing.'' At least four 
hours. It was funny. Was it possible that the fron- 
tiersman's prophecy was already coming to pass? 

It did come to pass. Again there were endless stops 
at every station and at every siding. Neither hot wa- 



ON THE WAY 61 

ter could be procured for the men, nor cold water for 
the horses, and there was no place to buy bread. Men 
were starving, and the horses stood in the closed cars 
without getting any water. When, according to the 
schedule, we were already to have reached Harbin, we 
had not gone as far as Tsitsikar. 

I had a talk with the engineer of our train. He ex- 
plained the delay in the same way as the frontiersman 
had done, namely, that the viceroy's trains choked the 
roads at Harbin, that the viceroy had ordered the 
whistling of the trains to be stopped at night, because 
it interfered with his sleep. The machinist spoke with 
the same provocation and contempt of Viceroy Alek- 
syeev. 

"He lives in the new station, close to his train. His 
train is always in readiness, so that, if anything hap- 
pens, he may have the first chance to skip." 

The days dragged on, and we crawled along slowly. 
One evening our train stopped at a siding some sixty 
versts from Harbin, but our engineer insisted that it 
would be two days before we reached Harbin. It was 
calm. The level plain, which was almost a desert, lay 
motionless before us. The moon was slightly overcast, 
and the sky showed a silvery sheen through the dry 
air. Dark clouds were gathering over Harbin, and 
now and then there were flashes of heat lightning. 

All about us was a profound quiet. The men in the 
cars were asleep. It looked as though the train itself 
were sleeping in this dim twilight and that everything 
was sleeping calmly and unbrokenly. And one felt like 
saying: "How can you sleep when you are so eagerly 
and passionately expected there.?" 

I awoke several times during the night. Through 
my sleep I now and then heard the tense jarring of the 
car, and then all grew silent again. It was as though 
the train were making convulsive efforts to push its 
way ahead, without succeeding in doing so. 



62 IN THE WAR 

Next day at noon we were still forty versts from 
Harbin. 

At last we arrived in Harbin. Our chief surgeon 
asked the commandant how long we should stop there. 

"Not more than two hours. We shall proceed to 
Mukden without changing cars." 

We had intended to make some purchases in Harbin, 
to make inquiries about letters and telegrams, and to 
go to the bath-house. Two hours later we were told 
that we should leave at midnight. Then that we should 
not get off before six o'clock next morning. We met 
the adjutant from the Staff of our Corps. He informed 
us that the roads were all blocked up with echelons, 
and that we should not leave for at least two days. 

All along the road the commandants acted in pre- 
cisely the same way as at Harbin. They announced 
in a definite and absolutely confident manner the short- 
est stopping-time, whereas our train actually would be 
detained for a dozen hours, or for days at a time. They 
acted as though, being unable to manifest any regu- 
larity in affairs, they took delight in blinding the 
newly-arrived men with a well-turned, positive fairy- 
tale of how well everything was arranged. 

The roomy new station, painted pale-green, in mis- 
sion style, was actually occupied by the viceroy and his 
staff. The small, dirty old station was packed close. 
It was difficult to make one's way through the crowd 
of officers, surgeons, engineers and clerks. The prices 
for everything were exorbitant, the food was wretched. 
We wanted to get our linen washed, and to go to the 
bath-house, but we could not find out where to go. At 
any meeting of scientists where a thousand or more 
men congregate, there is invariably found an informa- 
tion bureau for the convenience of inquiring strangers. 
But here, in the very centre of the Army's rear, where 
half a minion men were gathered, we had to get our 



ON THE WAY 6S 

information from station janitors, gendarmes, and 
teamsters. 

One was struck by the absence of even an elementary 
care for this mass of men on the part of those authori- 
ties who had brought them there. If I am not mis- 
taken, even "the officers' etapes," which were devoid 
of the simplest comforts, and were always overcrowded, 
were established at a much later time. In the inns they 
had to pay from four to five rubles a day for a miser- 
able lumber-room, and even then it was not always 
possible to get accommodations. They paid a ruble or 
two for the right to sleep in the corridors. The chief 
field office of the military medical staff was at Tieh- 
ling. A large number of surgeons arrived there who 
had been summoned from the reserve, "in the service of 
the Field Military Medical Inspector." Upon arriving, 
the surgeons reported to him, and they were left to take 
care of themselves as best they could. They frequently 
had to sleep on the floors of the hospitals between the 
cots of the patients. 

In Harbin I talked with many officers belonging to 
the various divisions of the service. They spoke well 
of Kuropatkin, who made a good impression upon them. 
But they said that he was tied hand and foot, and that 
he had no freedom of action. I could not understand 
how an independent, strong man could permit himself 
to be bound and go on attending to his business. Of 
the viceroy they all spoke unanimously in the same in- 
dignant manner. I never heard a good word of him. 
Amidst the unheard-of, painful suffering of the Rus- 
sian Army, he had but one care — his own comfort. 
It was generally reported that he had an insuperable 
hatred for Kuropatkin, and that he put all kinds of 
obstacles in his way and opposed him in every way 
imaginable. This hostility showed itself even in the 
most insignificant details. Kuropatkin had introduced 
khaki shirts and blouses for summer wear — the viceroy 



64 IN THE WAR 

hated them and demanded that the officers at Harbin 
should wear white blouses. 

The greatest provocation was directed against 
Stackelberg. There were stories about his tamest cow 
and about the asparagus, and how, during the fight 
near Wa-fang-kou, it became necessary to abandon a 
mass of wounded on the field of battle, because Stack- 
elberg had his train in the way of the hospital train. 
During the battle two companies of soldiers were busy 
pouring water on the canvas over the general's train, 
because his wife, who was with him, felt hot. 

"Do tell me, have we any leaders of talent?" I asked 
the officers. 

"Possibly Mishchenko. Well, no, he is a cavalryman 
by mistake. Oh, yes, there is Stoessel ! They say he is 
at Port Arthur, as brave as a lion." 

It was rumored that a new battle was being pre- 
pared. Harbin was filled with mad debauch. The 
champagne flowed in rivers, the courtesans were doing 
a splendid business. The percentage of officers fallen 
in battle was so great that all expected certain death, 
and so bade good-bye to life in wild orgies. 

Two days later we moved further south. 

All about us lay care fully- worked fields of kao-liang 
and chumiz. They were gathering in the crops. Every- 
where could be seen the blue forms of Chinamen at 
work. At the cross-roads in the villages stood the 
shrines of the idols, looking in the distance like bee- 
hives. 

In all probability we would be sent to battle directly 
from the cars. The officers and soldiers grew more 
serious. All seemed to hold themselves erect, and it be- 
came easier to maintain discipline. That terror and 
ill-omened fear, which had taken possession of our souls 
at a distance, now stood before us ; hence it was less 
terrible, and put us in an austere and solemn mood. 



CHAPTER III 



IN MUKDEN 



We arrived. The end of the journey! According to 
schedule, we ought to have reached it at nine o'clock 
in the morning, but we did not get there until two 
o'clock in the afternoon. Our train was standing on 
the reserve track, and the station authorities hastened 
with the unloading. 

The emaciated horses, stiffened by long standing, 
came out of the cars, stepping timidly over the frail 
gang-planks. The company was bustling on the plat- 
form, dragging out the carriages and two-wheeled 
carts. The unloading lasted three hours or more. 
Meanwhile we dined at the station in a close, over- 
crowded and dirty dining-room. Dense swarms of flies 
buzzed in the air, and some of them dropped into the 
soup and even got into our mouths. Among them raced 
martins, chirping merrily and keeping close to the walls 
of the hall. 

Beyond the fence of the station platform, our sol- 
diers heaped sacks filled with oats. The chief surgeon 
stood near by and counted the sacks. An orderly of 
our Division Staff rapidly approached him. 
"Good morning. Doctor. Are we all here.?" 
"We are. Where shall we be stationed.'"' 
"I shall take you there. That's what I came for." 
At about five o'clock everything was unloaded and 
in place, the horses were hitched to the carts, and we 
moved on. We went around the station, and turned to 
the right. Everywhere columns of infantry passed 

65 



66 IN THE WAR 

and heavy artillery rattled. In the distance the city 
was outlined, and all about us fires were flickering in 
the camps. 

We proceeded about three versts. 

The supervisor of Sultanov's hospital came gallop- 
ing towards us, accompanied by the bugler. 

"Gentlemen, move back!" 

"Back? Nonsense! The staff orderly told us to go 
this way!" 

Our supervisor and the orderly rode up to us. 

"What is the matter .^^ This way, gentlemen, this 
way," the orderly cried, in a reassuring voice. 

"The senior adjutant of the staff told me to go back 
to the station," the supervisor of Sultanov's hospital re- 
plied. 

"The devil ! It is impossible !" 

The orderly and our supervisor galloped ahead to 
the staff. Our baggage-train stopped. The soldiers, 
who had not eaten since the previous day, sat morosely 
by the side of the road and smoked. A strong, cold 
wind was blowing. 

The supervisor returned unaccompanied. 

"Yes, we are told to go back to Mukden," he in- 
formed us. "There the Medical Inspector of the Field 
Hospital will tell us where to stop." 

"Perhaps we shall have to return again. We had 
better wait here," said the chief surgeon. "You haid 
better ride down to the medical inspector and inquire," 
he said, turning to the assistant of the supervisor. 

The assistant dashed back to town. 

"The disorders are beginning, eh? Didn't I tell 
you?" my companion Selyukov exclaimed maliciously. 
He seemed to be happy because his prophecy was being 
fulfilled. 

Lean, lank, near-sighted, he sat on a flap-eared 
horse, with his back bent, holding the reins in both 
hands high up in the air. The meek beast caught sight 



IN MUKDEN 67 

of a handful of hay in a cart and stretched its neck 
out towards it. Frightened Seljukov awkwardly pulled 
the reins. 

"Whoa !" he drawled out in a threatening manner, 
looking piercingly through his glasses. But the horse 
none the less walked up to the cart, jerked the reins 
aside, and began to nibble. 

Lively and ever-merry Shantser burst out laugh- 

"I have to laugh, Aleksyey Ivanovich, as I look at 
you. What are you going to do when you'll have to 
run from the Japs ?" he asked Selyukov. 

"The devil take the horse ! For some reason he does 
not pay any attention to me!" Selyukov said in per- 
plexity. Then his lips, baring the gums, twitched into 
an embarrassed smile. "What am I going to do ? Why, 
when I see that the Japs are near, I'll get down from 
the horse and start to run, that's all." 

The sun was setting. We were still standing. In 
the distance, on the branch of the railway, Kuropat- 
kin's luxurious train could be discerned, with guards 
marching up and down the platform in front of the 
cars. Our soldiers, out of sorts and stiff with cold, 
sat at the roadside, and munched bread, if they had 
any. 

At last the supervisor's assistant came back. 

"The medical inspector says that he doesn't know 
anything about the matter." 

"The devil take them all!" the chief surgeon shouted 
angrily. "We will go back to the station and encamp 
there. We certainly cannot stay here in the open all 
night and freeze." 

The baggage-train moved back. We were met by 
our Division Chief, who was riding with his adjutant 
in a wide carriage. The old general watched our de- 
tachment, squinting behind his glasses. 

*'your health, boys !" he shouted merrily. 



68 IN THE WAR 

"We wish your health, Your Excellency!" the de- 
tachment bellowed. 

Swaying gently on its springs, the carriage drove 
on. Selyukov heaved a sigh. 

"It would have been better if, instead of saluting the 
'boys,' he had seen to it that the 'boys' did not waste a 
whole day in useless waiting." 

Grey stone buildings of the government type were 
lined up along the straight road which led from the 
station to the town. To the right and in front of them 
was a large field. In the trodden furrows lay dry 
stalks of kao-liang, and wet earth turned up by the 
hoofs of animals could be seen under spreading willow 
trees around a well. Our baggage-train stopped near 
that well. The horses were unhitched, fires were 
started by the soldiers, and water was heated in the 
kettles. The chief surgeon rode off in person to find 
out whither we were to go and what we were to do. 

It was growing dark, and the air was cold and damp. 
The soldiers pitched their tents. Selyukov, frozen stiff, 
his nose and cheeks red, stood motionless, with his hands 
thrust into the sleeves of his coat. 

"Oh, it would be nice to be in Moscow now," he 
sighed. "Just to have a cup of tea and go to the opera 
to hear 'Evgeni Onyegin.' " 

The chief surgeon came back. 

"We shall encamp to-morrow," he announced. *'Over 
there beyond the road are two stone barracks. Just 
now the hospitals of Division K are stationed there, but 
to-morrow they will be moved and we shall take their 
place." 

Then he went to the baggage-train. 

"What is the use of staying here.? Gentlemen, let 
us go over there and make the acquaintance of the sur- 
geons," Shantser proposed. 

We went to the barracks. In a small stone wing 
some eight surgeons were sitting at their tea.. We in- 



IN MUKDEN 69 

troduced ourselves. In passing, we informed them that 
we would take their places there to-morrow. 

Their faces dropped. 

"You don't say. And we were just beginning to 
fix ourselves up here, because we thought we were to 
stay here a long time!" 

"Have you been here long?" 

"Long! We took possession of the barracks just 
four days ago !" 

A tall, portly surgeon in a leather tunic with shoul- 
der-straps whistled in disappointment. 

*'Really, gentlemen, I must say, it is impossible !" 
he said. "You must understand, this is the fifth 
change in a month since we've been here !" 

"Comrade, don't you belong to this hospital.''" 

He raised his hand and shrugged his shoulders. 

"Nonsense! I would be lucky if I did! We, my 
three comrades and I, are doing work fit for a dog! 
'Despatched to be at the order of the Military Medical 
Inspector of the Field Hospital!' And they order us 
about ! I had been working at the combination hos- 
pital in Harbin, and had been in charge of a tent con- 
taining ninety cots. Suddenly, about a month ago, I 
received the order from the military inspector, Gor- 
batsevich, to proceed immediately to Yen-tai. He said 
to me: 'Take with you only one change of underwear, 
for you are going there for just four or five days.' 
When I arrived in Mukden, it turned out that Yen-tai 
had already been surrendered to the Japs. I was left 
here in this building, together with three of my com- 
rades, and the eight of us are doing the work which 
could be attended to by three or four physicians. The 
hospitals are being changed every week, but we stay 
on, so that it may be said that we have been despatched 
to be at the order of this building," he said laughingly. 

"Have you not made a report about your situation.^" 

"Of course we have, both to the inspector of the hos- 



70 IN THE WAR 

pitals and to Gorbatsevich. 'You are needed here, so 
just wait!' And here I am, with only one change of 
underwear ! Look at this leather tunic ! I have not 
even a cloak, for a month ago it was terribly hot, and 
now it freezes at night. I begged Gorbatsevich to let 
me ride down to Harbin to fetch my clothes, and I re- 
minded him that it was his fault that I was almost 
naked. 'No, no, impossible; you are needed here!' I 
should like to see him gallivant in nothing but a tunic !" 

We froze the whole night in our tents. A strong 
wind was blowing, and the cold and dust penetrated 
under the flaps. In the morning we drank tea and 
went to the barracks. 

There two generals were walking up and down, ac- 
companied by chief surgeons. One of these, a general 
in active service, was F. F. Trepov, Chief of the Sani- 
tary Division; the other, a surgeon, was Gorbatsevich, 
Military Medical Inspector of the Field Hospital. 

"The two hospitals must be given up this very day, 
do you hear?" the general in active service said authori- 
tatively and emphatically. 

"Yes, sir." 

I walked into the barracks. Everything in it was 
topsy-turvy. The soldiers of the hospital were tying 
bundles and carrying them to the carts, while our bag- 
gage-train came up from the camp. 

"Where are you going now.f^" I asked the surgeons, 
as we were making the change. 

"Somewhere on the other side of the town, three 
versts away. We are ordered to stay in the farm- 
houses." 

The enormous stone barracks were crowded with 
wooden cots, on all of which lay sick soldiers. The 
transfer took place under such unfavorable conditions. 
And what a transfer! A transfer of everything ex- 
cept the walls, the cots, and the sink. They took ofF 



IN MUKDEN 71 

the linen from the invalids, and pulled the mattresses 
away from under them. They took the hand-basins 
down from the walls, and carried off the towels, the 
dishes, and the spoons. At the same time we fetched 
in the bags for the mattresses, but there was nothing 
to fill them with. We sent the supervisor's assistant to 
buy some chumiz straw, while the invalids remained 
lying on bare boards. The dinner, which we had 
bought from, the departing hospital, was being pre- 
pared for the sick. 

One of the surgeons, "despatched to be at the order 
of the building," came in and said agitatedly : 

"Gentlemen, hurry up with the dinner, for the evacu- 
ating invalids must be at the station at one o'clock!" 

"Tell us what our work here is to be!" 

"You see, the sick and the wounded are sent here 
from the front positions and from the neighboring 
wards, and you are to examine them. The light cases, 
where the patients will get well in a day or two, are 
taken care of here. All the other patients are expe- 
dited to the sanitary trains with tickets like these, with 
the name, the designation of the disease, and the diag- 
nosis. Yes, gentlemen, but I forgot the most important 
thing," he interrupted himself, his eyes glistening hu- 
morously. "I caution you the authorities can't bear 
it when the surgeons make the diagnosis ^heedlessly.' 
In your heedlessness, you no doubt will diagnose the 
disease of the majority of the patients as 'dysentery' 
and 'intestinal typhoid.' Keep in mind that 'the sani- 
tary condition of the Army is excellent,' that we have 
never had such a thing as dysentery, but that there is 
'enterocolitis.' Intestinal typhoid may, in rare excep- 
tions, be admitted, but as a rule everything is 'in- 
fluenza.' " 

"A fine disease, that, influenza," Shantser said, laugh- 
ing merrily. "They ought to put up a monument to 
the discoverer of that disease." 



72 IN THE WAR 

"That disease is our salvation. At first, we had 
bites of conscience when we thought of the surgeons 
of the sanitary trains. Then we explained to them that 
they should not take our diagnoses seriously, that 
we knew how to diagnose intestinal typhoid, but 
that ..." 

Other surgeons arrived. It was half past twelve. 

"Gentlemen, why don't you gather up the sick for 
the evacuation .f^ They must be at the station at one 
o'clock without fail!" 

"The dinner is late. When will the train start?" 

"It leaves at six o'clock, but Trepov gets angry if 
they are fifteen minutes late. Hurry up, boys, and get 
through with your dinner! Those who are ordered to 
go to the station on foot must start at once !" 

The patients swallowed their dinner eagerly, and the 
surgeon continued to hurry them up. Our soldiers car- 
ried the feeble patients on litters. 

At last the evacuating party was off. Straw was 
brought, and they began to fill up the mattresses. Men 
were constantly going in and out, and the windows 
closed badly. A cold draught swept constantly through 
the enormous hall. The lean, emaciated soldiers lay 
on their cots without mattresses, huddling in their 
clothes. From a corner of the room a pair of glisten- 
ing black eyes looked at me angrily and with concen- 
trated hatred from underneath a cloak. I walked up 
to the patient. On the cot near the wall lay a soldier 
with a black beard and deeply-sunken cheeks. 

"Do you want anything?" I asked. 

"For a whole hour I've been begging for a drink," 
he answered bitterly. 

I spoke to a Sister of Mercy who happened to pass 
by, but she only shrugged her shoulders. 

"He has been asking for it for a long time, and I told 
the chief surgeon and the supervisor so. We can't give 
him unboiled water, because of the dysentery aU around 



IN MUKDEN 73 

us, and we have none that is boiled. There were some 
kettles built into the masonry in the kitchen, but they 
belonged to the other hospital and they took them out 
and carried them off. We have not yet bought any 
others." 

New parties of patients were constantly brought to 
the receiving-room. The soldiers were emaciated, in 
rags, full of vermin. Some of them claimed that they 
had not eaten for several days. There was a terrible 
jam, and no room to sit down. 

I had my dinner at the station. 

Upon returning, I crossed the receiving-room near 
the dressing-place. A groaning artilleryman lay 
there on a cot. One foot was booted, the other 
was covered with a cotton sock, soaked with black 
blood. The second boot, which had been ripped open, 
lay near by. 

"Your Honor, have mercy upon me ! Dress my 
wound ! I have been lying here for half an hour !" 

"What is your trouble?" 

"A caisson ran over my foot, and it was right on a 
stone, too." 

Senior Surgeon Grechikhin entered the room with a 
Sister of Mercy, who was carrying some material for 
dressing. He was a stocky, corpulent man, with a slow, 
genial smile, and the undress uniform hung strangely 
on the portly body of a Zemstvo surgeon. 

"Well, we shall have to dress it the best way we can," 
he said to me in an undertone, helplessly shrugging his 
shoulders. "We have nothing to wash the wound with. 
The apothecary can't prepare the corrosive sublimate 
solution because we have no boiled water. The devil 
take it all!" 

I went out. I met two specially detailed surgeons. 

"Are you the surgeon of the day.''" one of them asked 
me. 

"Yes, sir." 



74 ' IN THE WAR 

Raising his eyebrows, he looked at me with a smile 
and shook his head. 

"Look out ! If you fall in with Trepov, there might 
be some unpleasantness for you. How is it you are 
without your sword .^" 

What, without a sword.'' This question about a 
sword amidst the general disorder and turmoil smacked 
of childish clownishness. 

"Certainly you are attending to your duties, so you 
must have a sword." 

"Well, no, he no longer demands it," another surgeon 
remarked appeasingly. "He has come to understand 
that the sword is in the surgeon's way when he is dress- 
ing wounds." 

"I don't know about that. He threatened me with 
arrest because I was without my sword." 

Things went on as usual. Sisters arrived informing 
us that there was no soap, and that there were no 
bed-pans for the feeble patients. 

"Why don't you go and tell the supervisor .''" 

"We have told him more than once. You know the 
kind of man he is. 'Ask the apothecary, and if he 
hasn't any, ask the storekeeper.' The apothecary says 
that he hasn't any, and the storekeeper says the same." 

I looked for the supervisor. He stood with the chief 
surgeon at the entrance of the barracks. The chief 
surgeon had just returned from somewhere and, with a 
beaming and satisfied face, was saying to the super- 
visor : 

"I have just learned that the current price of oats 
here is one ruble eighty-five kopeks !" 

When the chief surgeon noticed me he grew silent, 
but we knew all about the oats. On the way to Siberia 
he had bought about a thousand puds of oats at forty- 
five kopeks, had brought it along with him with his 
echelon, and was getting ready to report these oats as 
having been bought for the hospital here in Mukden. 



IN MUKDEN 75 

In this manner he would have made more than a thou- 
sand rubles at one stroke. 

I told the supervisor about the soap and the rest. 

"I do not know about that. Ask the apothecary," 
he answered, with indifference and almost with surprise. 

"The apothecary hasn't any. You must have it." 

"No, I haven't." 

"Listen, Arkadi Nikolaevich ; I have had occasion to 
convince myself that the apothecary knows full well 
what he has and what he hasn't, but you do not know 
anything about your business." 

The supervisor was agitated and flew up in anger. 

"Maybe! But, gentlemen, I can't help it! To be 
frank with you, I know nothing about it." 

"But how are we to find out.?" 

"It will be necessary to look through all the bills of 
lading to find out where things are in the carts. Go 
and look them through, if you have a mind to !" 

I looked at the chief surgeon. He pretended that 
he did not hear our talk. 

"Grigori Yakovlevich, do tell me whose business it 
is," I said, turning to him. 

The chief surgeon rolled his eyes. 

"What's up? Why, a surgeon has got business of 
his own to attend to. Arkadi Nikolaevich, go and 
make the proper arrangements." 

It was getting dark. The Sisters, in white aprons 
with red crosses, were giving tea to the patients. They 
put the bread down in a solicitous manner, and fed the 
patients gently and tenderly. These splendid girls no 
longer seemed to be those uninteresting and tiresome 
Sisters that they had been on the road. 

"V. V- — ich, have you just received one Circassian .f^" 

"One." 

"But his comrade is lying with him and will not leave 
him." 

On the cot lay two Dagestanians. One of them, with 



76 IN THE WAR 

his head hunched between his shoulders, fixed his black, 
glowing ejes on me. 

"Are you sick?" I asked him. 

"Not sick," he replied boldly, showing the whites of 
his eyes. 

"Then you can't stay here. You must go away." 

"I won't go." 

I shrugged my shoulders. 

"What is the matter with him? Well, let him lie 
in the meantime. Lie down on this other cot, so long 
as it isn't used, but here you are bothering your com- 
rade." 

The Sister handed him a mug of tea and a big chunk 
of white bread. The Dagestanian completely lost his 
composure and timidly stretched out his hand. He 
drank his tea eagerly and ate his bread to the last 
crumb. Then he suddenly arose and made a low bow 
to the Sister. 

"Thank you. Sister. I haven't had anything to eat 
for two days." 

He threw his crimson cowl over his shoulders and 
went away. 

The day came to an end. A few lanterns burned 
dimly in the enormous, dark barrack-hall, and a cold 
draught sifted in through the badly-closed enormous 
windows. The sick soldiers were sleeping, rolled up in 
their cloaks. In the comer of the hall, where some sick 
officers were placed, candles were burning at the head 
of the cots. Some of these officers were reclining and 
reading, others were talking or playing cards. 

In a side room my comrades were drinking tea. I 
told the chief surgeon that it was absolutely necessary 
to fix the windows of the barracks that were out of re- 
pair. He only laughed. 

"Do you think that that is so easy to do? You are 
not a military man, sir. We have no money for the 
repair of buildings. We are supposed to stay in tents. 



IN MUKDEN 7T 

It might be possible to take the money from the eco- 
nomic funds, but we haven't any; our hospital has just 
been organized. It would be necessary to make a re- 
port to the authorities, asking for special items." 

He began to tell about the intrigues with which every 
request for moneys is connected, and of the constant 
danger of deficits. He told of incredibly stupid sallies, 
but here one was prepared to believe anything. 

At eleven o'clock at night the commander of our 
corps entered the barracks. He had passed the whole 
evening in Sultanov's hospital, which was stationed in 
the adjoining building. Apparently the commander 
considered it only decent just to take a look at our 
barracks. 

The general crossed the hall, stopped in front of the 
patients who were not asleep, and asked indifferently: 
"What is your trouble?" The chief surgeon and the 
supervisor walked respectfully behind him. On depart- 
ing, the general said: 

"It is very cold in the barracks and there is a 
draught." 

"Neither the doors nor the windows close tightly, 
Your Excellency," replied the chief surgeon. 

"Have them fixed." 

"Yes, Your Excellency." 

When the general had gone, the chief surgeon burst 
out laughing. 

"Do you suppose he will pay for me if there is a 
deficit.?" 

The same confusion reigned on the following days. 
The dysentery patients ruined the mattresses, and 
there was no arrangement for washing. About fifty 
steps from the barracks there were four privies, which 
served for all the neighboring buildings, including our 
own. Previous to the Liao-yang engagement, I think, 
it had served as barracks for the frontiersmen. Inside 



78 IN TiaE WAR 

the privies there was dirt, and the seats were soilecj 
with the bloody effluvia of the dysenteries, and both in- 
vahds and well men used them. Nobody cleaned these 
privies: they were used by all the adjoining buildings 
alike, and those in charge of them could not make out 
whose duty it was to attend to their cleaning. 

New patients arrived and we despatched the old ones 
to the sanitary trains. We received many officers. The 
complaints of most of them were strange and indefinite, 
and it was not possible to establish any objective symp- 
toms. In the barracks they were in good spirits and 
no one would have thought that they were invalids. All 
of them persistently begged to be despatched to Har- 
bin. It was rumored that a new battle was to begin in 
a few days, and it became clear what the trouble was 
with these warriors. And this became still more clear 
when they began to tell us and each other modestly and 
in detail about their exploits in past battles. 

Here is a contrast. There arrived a hundredman, 
an Ussurian, a handsome, sunburnt young fellow with 
a black mustache. He suffered terribly from dysen- 
tery and he was to be sent on. 

"Under no consideration. No, Doctor, you must fix 
me up some way or other here." 

"There are no conveniences here. It is impossible to 
keep the proper diet, and the housing is bad." 

"You must help me somehow. There's a battle ahead, 
my comrades are going into action, and here you want 
to send me off. No, I want to stay here." 

It was evening. A lean general with a sandy beard 
rapidly walked into the barracks. Dr. Selyukov was 
on duty. With eyes bulging behind his glasses, he 
slowly moved his spindle legs through the hall. 

"How many patients have you?" the general asked, 
dryly and abruptly. 

"At the present moment, about ninety." 

The general silently surveyed him from head to foot. 



IN MUKDEN 79 

"Do you not know that so long as I am here with 
my cap off you have no right to keep yours on?" 

"I did not know. I am from the reserve." 

"Oh, you are from the reserve.'' I'll put you under 
arrest for a week, and then you won't be from the re- 
serve. Do you know who I am.''" 

"No, sir." 

"I am the Inspector of Hospitals. Where is your 
chief surgeon.'"' 

"He's gone to town." 

"Well, where is the senior assistant.'' Who takes 
his place.'"' 

The Sisters ran to fetch Grechikhin, to whom they 
whispered that he should take off his cap. One of the 
surgeons on special duty flew up to the general and, 
standing at attention, reported: 

"Your Excellency, in the movable field hospital there 
are 98 patients, among them 14 officers and 84 of the 
rank and file." 

The general nodded in assent and turned to ap- 
proaching Grechikhin: 

"What a disorder there is here ! The patients lie in 
their caps and the surgeons themselves walk about in 
their caps. Do you not see that there are icons here.^"' 

Grechikhin looked about and replied curtly: 

"There are no icons." 

"What.?" the general shouted angrily. "Why are 
there none.'' What disorder! And you, too, Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel!" he said, turning to one of the sick offi- 
cers. "You ought to be an example to your soldiers, 
and there you are lying in a cap ! Why are the sol- 
diers' guns and knapsacks near them.'"' he again 
shouted to Grechikhin. 

"There is no armory here." 

"What disorder ! Things are lying about in a heap, 
even the rifles. It isn't a hospital, it's a bazaar !" 

The general walked on, accompanied by the surgeons, 



80 IN THE WAR 

and angry, senselessly-insulting remarks flowed with- 
out interruption. 

In going out he met our Corps Commander. 

"To-morrow I shall take my two hospitals away 
from you," the Corps Commander informed him, in lieu 
of greeting. 

"How is that, Your Excellency.? Are we to be left 
without them.?" the inspector replied, in an entirely 
new, modest and weak voice. He was only a major- 
general and the commander was a full general. 

"I don't care. The field hospitals must stay with us 
and we leave to-morrow for the positions." 

After long pourparlers, the Corps Commander 
agreed to give to the inspector the movable hospitals 
of his other Division, which were to arrive from Muk- 
den the following day. The generals went away. We 
were indignant at all this stupidity and senselessness, 
and at the topsy-turvy manner in which everything 
was done. In the face of the serious matter of aiding 
the patients, there seemed to be an endeavor to turn all 
the attention to the conventional attitude of store- 
keepers. The surgeons on special duty looked at us 
and laughed. 

"What strange people you are! That's what the 
authorities are for, namely, to yell ! What would they 
have to do if it weren't for that.? That's the way they 
manifest their activity!" 

"They had better look to it that the patients do not 
freeze in the draught, and that there should be an end 
to what took place here day before yesterday!" 

"Don't you know that to-morrow will be just the 
same?" said a surgeon on special duty, with a sigh. 

Two surgeons from Sultanov's hospital came in. 
One of them was embarrassed and angry, while the other 
kept smiling. It turned out that the inspector had 
raked them over the coals in the same way, and had 
threatened the surgeon on duty with arrest. The 



IN MUKDEN 81 

surgeon on duty had started to report: "I have 
the honor to inform Your Excellency ..." "What? 
What right have you got to inform me? You report 
to me, but you don't inform me! I'll put you under 
arrest for a week!" 

The inspector of the hospitals who had swooped 
down upon us was Major-General Ezerski. Before 
the war, he had been serving with the Moscow com- 
missariat and still earlier he had been a chief of police 
at Irkutsk. In that gloomy, tragical atmosphere of 
humor, which characterized that war, the composition 
of the higher medical administration stands out as a 
brilliant black diamond. I shall have to say a great 
deal more about it. Here I shall only remark that the 
chief management of all the sanitary matters in our 
enormous army was in the hands of an ex-governor, a 
man totally ignorant of medicine and beyond measure 
unbusiness-like. The inspector of the hospitals was an 
ex-chief of police. And so it is not strange that he 
superintended the medical institutions in apparently 
the same manner in which he formerly had superin- 
tended the streets and saloons in the city of Irkutsk. 

The next morning I was sitting in my room when 
I heard outside a haughty voice: 

"Oh, there! Inform your supervisor that flags 
should be displayed in front of the hospital! The 
viceroy is coming to-day!" 

Past the window flitted a general's cloak with its 
red lining. I put my head out of the window : Medical 
Inspector Gorbatsevich was walking in agitation to 
the adjoining barracks. Selyukov was standing near 
the porch, looking bashfully around him. 

"Did he address you in that manner?" I asked in 
surprise. 

"Yes, me! The devil take it! I was so thunder- 
struck that I completely lost myself and didn't know 
what to reply." 



82 IN THE WAR 

Selyukov went to the receiving-room in a surly mood. 

Work was seething near the barracks. The soldiers 
were sweeping the street in front of the building, 
scattering sand, and raising a pole with the Red Cross 
and national flags. The supervisor was present, and 
he was now active and energtic, and knew exactly 
where to get things. 

Selyukov entered the room and seated himself on his 
bed. 

"There are as many high officers here as dogs. 
The moment you go out you run into one of them, 
and you can't make them out. Just as I entered the 
receiving-room I saw a dandy with red stripes stand- 
ing there. I was on the point of making a report to 
him when, behold, he stiffened up and saluted. I 
guess it was a Cossack." 

He drew a deep breath. 

"Well, I prefer to freeze in a tent, for here there 
are more superiors than our men." 

Shantser, a little embarrassed and deep in thought, 
entered the room. He was the surgeon of the day. 

"I don't know what to do ! I ordered the removal 
of two mattresses from the cots — they had been com- 
pletely spoiled by two dysenteries who had been lying 
on them. The chief surgeon came and said: 'Leave 
them! Don't change them! There are no other mat- 
tresses.' I said to him: ^That doesn't make any dif- 
ference, it would be better for a new patient to lie 
down on the boards. When he gets here he will very 
likely be exhausted by hunger and fatigue, and will 
become infected with dysentery.' The chief surgeon 
turned away from me and said to the barracks- 
sei-vants: 'Don't dare to remove the mattresses, do you 
hear.?' And he went away. He is afraid that the 
viceroy would suddenly notice that two patients had 
no mattresses." 

In and around the barracks they continued feverishly 



IN MUKDEN 83 

their work of cleaning. It simply nauseated me. I 
left the building and went into the fields. In the dis- 
tance stood our barracks, neat, and spruced-up with 
waving flags ; and within were invalids, shivering in 
the draught, dirty, and permeated with the infection 
from the mattresses — a common woman, powdered and 
painted, in her best clothes, and in dirty, ill-smelling 
underwear. 

There had been no transfer of patients for two days, 
because the sanitary trains were not running. The 
viceroy was travelling from Harbin like the Tsar, more 
than the Tsar; all the traffic on the railway had 
stopped on his account. The sanitary trains with 
patients, and the trains with soldiers and guns that 
were hurrying south for the imminent battle, came to 
a standstill. Patients arrived at our hospital in end- 
less numbers. All the cots and litters were occupied, 
and they began to place the patients on the floor. 

In the evening, they brought fifteen wounded Dage- 
stanians from the positions. These were the first 
wounded men that we had received. In burkas and 
crimson cowls they sat and lay about, their black, burn- 
ing eyes peering under heavy eye-brows. Amidst the 
sick soldiers, the grey, gloomy, and melancholy soldiers 
that filled the receiving-room, this band of blood- 
stained men, with the air of battle and danger about 
them, stood out as a bright, attractive point. 

They also brought their officer, a hundredman, who 
had been wounded in the hand. Animated, with ner- 
vously-glittering eyes, the hundredman told how they 
had mistaken the Japs for their own comrades, how 
they had ridden up close to them, and, getting within 
gunshot, had lost seventeen men and thirty horses. 
"But we have made them suff'er for it," he added, with 
a proud smile. 

Everybody crowded around him, and the surgeons. 
Sisters, and sick officers put ^11 kinds of questions to 



84 IN THE WAR 

him. They put the questions with kindly and eager 
interest, and again all the patients around about us 
appeared dull in comparison with him who was sur- 
rounded by the aureole of battle and danger. I sud- 
denly understood that handsome Ussurian who had so 
stubbornly refused to be sent away on account of his 
dysentery. 

An adjutant came from the viceroy to inquire about 
the health of a wounded officer. Then men came from 
the Red Cross Hospital and insistently demanded that 
the officer should be transferred to them. The officer 
agreed to go and he was carried away to the Red Cross, 
which heretofore had contemptuously refused to receive 
sick men from us. 

In the army sick men are pariahs. They have done 
hard work, have suffered just as much, perhaps more 
grievously and irreparably than many a wounded man, 
but everybody looks upon them with indifference and 
even with scorn. They are so uninteresting. They 
belong behind the scene, and they fit in so little with 
the glaring staging of war. When the hospital is full 
of wounded men, the higher authorities are zealous in 
their attentions, but when there are sick men in the 
hospital, they hardly ever look in. The sanitary trains 
which belong to the department of war make every 
effort to ward off the sick men. It has happened more 
than once that a train would be standing for a week 
or two waiting for the wounded. There are no wounded, 
but the train continues to stand and block the road; 
yet they refuse to receive sick patients, even those 
without any contagion. 

Sultanov's hospital was doing its work in the adjoin- 
ing barracks. Sultanov appointed his niece, Novit- 
skaya, as senior Sister of Mercy. He said to the sur- 
geons : 

"Gentlemen, do not put Aglaya Aleksyeevna in 



IN MUKDEN 85 

charge of the hospital. Let the junior Sisters do that 
duty." 

The Sisters had no end of work to do ; they were busy 
about the patients from morning to night. Novitskaya 
rarely made her appearance in the barracks. Frail, 
elegantly-dressed, she walked listlessly through the 
halls and returned to Sultanov's room, where she sat 
from morning till night. Zinaida Arkadevna at first 
went to work with a vim. Proudly displaying her red 
cross and her white apron, she attended the sick, giving 
them tea and smoothing their pillows. But she soon 
cooled off. One evening I happened to call on them 
in their barracks. Zinaida Arkadevna was sitting on 
a stool near the table, with her hands in her lap, and 
saying in an attractively-languid voice: 

"I am all fagged out. I've been on my feet all day, 
and my temperature is up to 100 degrees; I've just 
taken it. I wonder whether it is the beginning of 
typhoid. And I'm in charge for the day. The senior 
surgeon has positively forbidden me to undertake this 
duty, he's so severe. Poor Nastasya Petrovna will 
have to do the work for me." 

Nastasya Petrovna was the fourth Sister in the hos- 
pital, a simple, meek girl, who had been taken from the 
Red Cross Society. She took charge, and Zinaida 
Arkadevna went with Sultanov and Novitskya to take 
supper with the Corps Commander. 

Fairy-like Vyera Nikolaevna worked like a hero. 
The whole work in the hospital lay on her shoulders 
and on those of meek Nastasya Petrovna. The sick 
officers marvelled because there were only two Sisters 
in that hospital. Soon Vyera Nikolaevna took sick. 
For a few days she kept on her feet, but at last she 
went to bed, with her temperature at 104. Nastasya 
Petrovna was left to do all the work. At first she pro- 
tested, and informed the senior surgeon that the work 
was beyond her strength. The senior surgeon was that 



86 IN THE WAR 

very Dr. Vasilev who had almost ordered the arrest of 
a supervising officer in Russia, and who the other day 
had so "strictly" forbidden Zinaida Arkadevna to take 
charge of the hospital. He shouted at Nastasya 
Petrovna as though she were a chamber-maid, and he 
told her that she had no business coming here if she 
wanted to idle away her time. 

In our hospital two supernumerary Sisters were 
added to the four regular ones. One of them was the 
wife of an officer from our division. She had joined 
our echelon at Harbin, had wept all the time, and was 
filled with sorrow and care for her husband. The other 
had been attached to one of the hospitals of the rear, 
and was transferred to us when she learned that we 
were advancing to the front. She was eager to be 
under fire, and so she declined her salary, took up the 
duties of a supernumerary Sister, and persistently 
solicited the authorities until her request was granted. 
She was a broad-shouldered young woman of about 
twenty-five years of age, with her hair cut short, with 
a low voice, and with a heavy, masculine gait. When 
she walked, her skirt flapped strangely and awkwardly 
about her strongly-built, widely-striding legs. 

An order came from the staff of our corps for both 
hospitals to break up and to leave next morning for 
the village of Saho-taz, and wait there for further in- 
structions. What was to be done with the patients and 
on whose hands were they to be left? Hospitals of 
another division of our corps were to come to take our 
places; but the viceroy's train had blocked all traffic 
on the railway, and nobody knew when they would 
arrive. And yet we were ordered to leave next day. 

Again everything in the barracks was turned topsy- 
turvy. They took down the wash-basins, packed the 
medicine-chests, and were getting ready to take the 
kettles out of the masonry in the kitchen. 



IN MUKDEN 87 

''How is that, please?" Grechikhin said, wonderingly. 
"We cannot leave the patients to their fate." 

"I must carry out the orders of my immediate su- 
periors," replied the chief surgeon, looking askance 
at him. 

"Precisely. That is not a subject for discussion," 
the supervisor put in officiously. "We are attached 
to the division and all its belongings have already left. 
How dare we not carry out the orders of the Corps 
Commander? He is our chief." 

"You mean to say we are to abandon the patients?" 

"We are not responsible. That is the business of 
the local authorities. Here is the order, and it says 
there distinctly that we must leave to-morrow." 

"Whatever it may say there, we will not abandon the 
patients !" we declared. 

The chief surgeon hesitated for a long time, but 
finally he decided to stay and to await the arrival of 
the hospitals. Besides, Ezerski declared emphatically 
that he would not let us off until somebody came to 
take our place. 

The question arose : why all this destruction, taking- 
away of kettles, pulling-away of mattresses from under 
the sick? So long as our corps can get along with 
two hospitals instead of four, why would it not be 
simpler for us to stay here, and for the arriving hos- 
pitals to go directly South with the corps ? But every- 
body understood that this was impossible, because in 
the neighboring hospital were Dr. Sultanov and Sister 
Novitskaya, and our Corps Commander did not want 
to part with them. Hence let the sick "holy cattle" 
wallow for days on bare planks, without food and with- 
out medical attendance. 

But here was something totally incomprehensible: 
for a whole month Mukden had been the centre of our 
army; our army had been over-abundantly supplied 
with hospitals and surgeons; nonetheless, the sanitary 



88 IN THE WAR 

authorities did not know how to organize or care to 
organize a permanent hospital at Mukden. They were 
satisfied to catch the passing hospitals by their coat- 
tails, and to install them in their barracks until the 
accidental appearance of new hospitals on the horizon. 
Could not all that have been arranged diiFerently .? 

Two days later the expected hospitals arrived in 
Mukden and we gave the barracks over to them and 
moved South. We felt gloomy and downcast. Before 
us an enormous complicated machine was doing its 
work. In it a crack opened, through which we looked 
and saw wheels, axles, pinions ; everything was busily 
and furiously in motion, but things did not articulate, 
and were moving aimlessly and in confusion. What 
was this ? An accidental break in the mechanism at the 
spot which we were watching.? Or was all this heavy 
machine making this noise and bustle just for appear- 
ances, while really unfit for work.? 

In the south heavy peals of thundering cannon were 
constantly heard. The Battle of Sha-ho was beginning. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 

We left Mukden early in the morning in column of 
route. The evening before it had rained; the roads 
glistened with a light, slippery mud, and the sun shone 
through a transparently-dim cloud. The weather was 
mild and the air was quiet. Far to the south the dull 
thunder of the cannon resounded continually. 

We were on horseback. The detachment went on 
foot. The green carriages and carts creaked. In a 
clumsy, four-horsed hospital carriage the white caps 
and aprons of the Sisters of Mercy could be seen. The 
short-haired supernumerary Sister did not ride with 
the others, but went on horseback. She was dressed 
in male attire, in grey trousers and tall boots, and had 
on a cap of Archangel fur. In her skirt she had made 
a frightful impression, but in male attire she looked a 
fine fellow. Now her broad shoulders and her masculine 
gait appeared to advantage. She was a splendid horse- 
woman. The soldiers called her the "Boy-Sister." 

The chief surgeon asked a passing Cossack how to 
get to the village of Saho-taz, and the Cossack showed 
him the way. We reached the river Hun-ho, which we 
crossed by means of a bridge, and then turned to the 
left. Now this was strange ; according to the map, our 
village lay to the southwest of Mukden, and here we 
were going to the southeast. We told the chief surgeon 
so, and tried to persuade him to take a Chinese guide. 
Stubborn, self-confident, and stingy, Davydov said that 
he would bring us there better than any Chinaman. 

89 



90 IN THE WAR 

We went some three versts along the bank of the river 
to the east. Finally Davydov himself saw that we were 
going wrong and so we recrossed the river over another 
bridge. 

It became clear to everybody that we had gotten the 
devil knew where. The chief surgeon sat majestically 
and glumly on his horse, giving curt commands and 
not exchanging words with any one. The soldiers lazily 
dragged their feet through the mud and laughed con- 
temptuously. In the distance appeared the bridge 
over which we had crossed two hours before. 

"Now, Your Honor, shall we turn again to that 
bridge?" the soldiers asked us, ironically. 

The chief surgeon studied the map for a while, and 
this time turned us straight to the west. 

Every once in a while we would stop. The horses 
which had not been ridden shied and overturned the 
carts. In one carriage the shaft was split, in another 
one the whiffle-tree was broken. We had to stop to get 
them fixed. 

In the south the cannon continued to roar like slow, 
distant peals of thunder. One could hardly believe 
that hell and death were there. The soul was anguished 
and one felt conscience-stricken : there the battle is rag- 
ing, wounded are wallowing on the ground, we are 
needed there — and here we are aimlessly and lazily 
circHng through the fields. 

I looked at my compass ; we were going to the north- 
west. Everybody knew that we were going in the 
wrong direction, and yet we had to go, because the 
stubborn old man did not want to show that he saw 
his mistake. 

In the evening the outlines of a Chinese town and the 
curved roofs of towers and shrines appeared. On the 
left could be seen a series of government buildings and 
the white smoke from the trains. Among the soldiers 
a reserved, hostile laugh arose : this was Mukden. After 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 91 

a whole day's marching we had come back to our stone 
barracks. 

The chief surgeon kept out of the way, and stopped 
for the night in a suburban Chinese village. 

The soldiers pitched their tents, made fires with kao- 
liang, and heated some water in their kettles. We were 
put up in a roomy, clean, stone farmhouse. The po- 
litely-smiling Chinese farmer in his silk coat took us 
over his farm and showed us the estate. It was sur- 
rounded by a high clay fence and wide-branching poplar 
trees. Yellow ricks of kao-liang, chumiz, and rice were 
to be seen, and they were threshing on the clean thresh- 
ing-floor. The proprietor told us that he had a shop 
in Mukden and that he had taken his wife and children 
there ; for here, he said, he was in constant danger from 
passing soldiers and Cossacks. The week before some 
Dagestanians had seized his mother, a woman of fifty 
years, and carried her off. 

On the door-posts hung two bright-colored, slant- 
eyed figures in fantastic apparel. There was also a 
long, vertical strip with Chinese hieroglyphics. I asked 
him what it said. The proprietor answered: 

"Good to speak." 

*'Good to speak" — an inscription on the entrance, 
with the entrance gods. It was strange; and, looking 
at the calm and polite man, I understood. 

We arose at daybreak. Dimly red streaks appeared 
in the east, and the trees were covered with mist. In 
the distance the cannon were roaring already. Sol- 
diers with pinched faces were morosely hitching the 
horses. It was cold: they had slept under thin cloaks, 
or had run about all night in order to keep themselves 
warm. 

The chief surgeon met an acquaintance of his of 
whom he inquired about the road, and he led us once 
more without taking a guide. We again lost the road. 



92 IN THE WAR 

going God knows where. Again shafts broke, and the 
fresh horses overturned the carts. As we approached 
Saho-taz, we fell in with our division baggage-train. 
The chief of the baggage-train showed us a new order 
which said that we were to proceed to the Su-ya-tun 
Station. 

We moved on to find the station. We crossed a river 
over a pontoon-bridge, walked through villages, and 
waded through brooks swollen by the rain. Soldiers, 
up to their waists in the water, helped the horses to 
pull out the carts that got stuck in the mud. 

Then there came fields. On both sides could be seen 
close ricks of kao-liang and chumiz. I was riding back 
of the baggage-train. I could see the soldiers running 
away from the carts, seizing armfuls of fodder, and 
running back again to the carts. Again and again 
they ran in plain sight of everybody. The chief sur- 
geon rode by. I sternly asked him: 

"Tell me, is this done with your permission .f'" 

He acted as though he did not understand. 

"With my permission? What?" 

"All this plundering of the fodder from the Chinese 
fields." 

"I declare! The rascals!" Davydov said, indiffer- 
ently, but with a show of indignation, and, lazily turn- 
ing to the sergeant-major, he added: "Nezhdanov, 

tell them to stop! You, V. V ich, please see to it 

that all this looting is stopped," he said in theatrical 
tones, turning to me. 

"If you mean it, issue a strict order to the soldiers, 
for otherwise, as you see, they are not at all em- 
barrassed in your presence." 

In front of us soldiers kept running into the fields 
and stealing bundles of fodder. The chief surgeon rode 
off at a gentle trot. The sergeant-major, who had 
been sent ahead, came back. 

"What they took before was within the allowance. 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 93 

but this Is beyond the allowance," he smilingly explained 
the prohibition of the chief surgeon. On top of every 
cart could be seen a heap of golden sheaves of chumiz. 

Beside me our soldiers marched. They had heard 
my talk with the chief surgeon. 

"Of course, we have to take it ! What's the use talk- 
ing about it.P Why should our horses starve .f"' they 
said. 

"The horses shouldn't starve at all," I replied. "The 
government gives money for their upkeep." 

"Yes, it gives money ! Why should we waste Russian 
money.? What's the use pitying these Chinamen .f^" 

"It says in the Bible that you may take," remarked 
Bastrykin, a stocky soldier with the face of a scoundrel. 

"Where does it say that in the Bible ? Show me ! I 
never saw it there!" 

"My Bible is torn," Bastrykin replied, smiling. 

"He must have read an awful lot in it," another sol- 
dier ventured in explanation. 

Towards evening we arrived at the Su-ya-tun Sta- 
tion, where we bivouacked to the east of the tracks. 
The guns now roared nearby, and we could hear the 
whistling of the projectiles. To the north the sanitary 
trains passed. To the south could be seen the flashes 
of bursting shrapnel in the twilight. With increasing 
anguish we looked at the flaring fires and thought : now 
begins the real thing. 

We were ordered next morning to cross the railway 
tracks and to take up a position at the village of Siao- 
kii-shinpu, about half a verst from the station. 

As we entered the village, Chinese carts laden with 
all kinds of movables hastily drove out of the yards. 
On top of the carts sat some Chinese women, hiding 
their faces from us. Beside them walked a Chinaman 
with a flexible shoulder-yoke across his neck, and at 
the ends of the yoke little Chinese babies swayed in 
round baskets. The babies were full-faced and plump, 



94 IN THE WAR 

with black top-knots, and they sat with their legs 
under them like little idols. The Chinaman trudged 
along, gloomily watching the ground, while the babies 
in the swaying baskets looked with their little black 
eyes merrily and inquisitively at us. 

Our baggage-train stood in a large square garden 
which was surrounded with white willows. The .tents 
were pitched. Dr. Sultanov's hospital was stationed in 
the same village. They had arrived the evening before 
and had bivouacked not far from the place where we 
took up our position. 

While leaving Mukden, Dr. Sultanov got into a 
violent conflict with his surgeons. For the belongings 
of the four junior surgeons and the supervisor with 
his adjutant a separate cart is officially set aside, 
whereas the chief surgeon is provided with money with 
which to furnish his own cart and two cart-horses. Sul- 
tanov bought neither cart nor horses, put the money 
into his pocket, and ordered his belongings to be loaded 
on the surgeons' cart. The surgeons protested, and 
ordered the supervisor to haul the belongings of the 
surgeon-in-chief down from the cart. They reported 
the matter to Sultanov. He was beside himself, 
shouted at the surgeons and the supervisor as at com- 
mon orderlies, stamped his feet, threatened to have 
them all arrested, and ordered his things to be put back 
on the cart immediately. The surgeons were terribly 
provoked, and were getting ready to send a report ac- 
cusing the chief surgeon. But whom would this report 
reach first? The Division Commander, an easy-going 
old man, who did not want to have any quarrels with 
anybody; then it would reach the Commander of the 
Corps, Sultanov's patron. And the surgeons, being 
typical Russians, were satisfied with having grumbled 
and having been provoked "among friends." 

Sultanov had somehow completely changed. In the 
car he had invariably been kind, witty, and jolly; now, 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 95 



on the march, he was overbearing and fierce. He rode 
his horse, angrily looking askance, and nobody dared 
to talk to him. So it went on until evening. We came 
to our stopping-place. As a first duty it became neces- 
sary to find a comfortable, clean farmhouse for the 
chief surgeon and the Sisters, and they put up the 
samovar and prepared the dinner. Sultanov dined and 
drank tea, and he again became gentle, elegant, and 
witty. 

Our chief surgeon and the supervisor took care of 
the detachment as best they knew how. It is true, 
the soldiers slept in the cold under their sunnner 
cloaks, but the fur jackets had not yet been furnished 
anywhere in the Army. Our soldiers at least had 
enough to eat, and everything was done to provide them 
with sufficient food. In Sultanov's hospital nobody 
looked after the detachment. The whole personnel 
seemed to exist only in order to pamper and coddle 
Dr. Sultanov and the Sisters. The detachment froze 
and went without food, and was obliged to look out for 
itself. The soldiers grumbled, but Sultanov looked 
upon their complaints with naive and cynical good- 
nature. At one time the senior surgeon, Vasilev, came 
to him with a complaint against a soldier of the detach- 
ment. Vasilev had been giving some command when 
a soldier blurted out to him: 

"All you know how to do is to command ! You don't 
feed us, in the night we freeze, and yet you want us 
to carry out orders !" 

Sultanov frowned contemptuously. The aff^air hap- 
pened in the evening, after he had had a good dinner, 
and when he was in good spirits. 

"Oh, just leave them alone ! God be with them ! To 
tell the truth, they are right. We ride on horseback 
and they walk. When we arrive, the first thing we do 
is to find a farmhouse for ourselves and to order dinner 
and tea, while they are tired and hungry. I sent 



96 IN THE WAR 

somebody to get some meat for them, but they didn't 
get anything, only enough for a beef-steak for us. If 
we walked, starved, and froze with them, they would 
be carrying out our orders." 

A day, two, three, passed. We were perplexed be- 
yond measure. All along the front the guns roared 
madly, and past us went transports with wounded. 
And yet we received no order to encamp with our hos- 
pitals. The tents, instruments, and the dressing-ma- 
terials lay peacefully packed away in the carts. On 
the railway sidings stood other hospitals, for the most 
part also packed up. What did all this mean? There 
were rumors that twenty thousand men had dropped 
from the lines, that Sha-ho Brook was flowing red with 
blood, and here we were, dozens of surgeons, sitting 
with our hands folded and with nothing to do. 

Not very far from us fighting was going on at 
full blast. Rapid rifle fire was heard constantly. On 
the roads infantry divisions and artillery parks moved 
along, or dust-covered Cossacks galloped. Something 
terrible, very near to us, was taking place ; everybody 
was busy and in a hurry — but we remained inactive, 
and strangers to everything. We rode down to the 
positions, watched the fighting from nearby, and ex- 
perienced the sharp sensation of being under fire. But 
even this sensation left a bad taste in the mouth, be- 
cause it was stupid to court danger for nothing what- 
soever. 

Our detachment was perplexed. Like us, they ex- 
perienced the same lonely feeling of compulsory in- 
activity. The soldiers went beyond the village to look 
at the fight, eagerly asked the passing Cossacks for 
news, and vividly and excitedly told us the rumors 
about the progress of the battle. 

Once three soldiers of our detachment came to the 
supervisor and announced to him that they wanted tp 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 97 

be transferred to the line. The chief surgeon and the 
supervisor were surprised; they had frequently during 
the journey threatened offending soldiers with a trans- 
fer to the line, because they saw in this a terrible pun- 
ishment, and here the soldiers themselves were asking 
to be sent there. 

All three of them were fine young fellows. As I 
said before, in the regiments of our corps there were 
very many middle-aged men, who were oppressed by 
ailments and by cares for their large families. But 
our hospital detachments consisted for the greater 
part of young, strong, sturdy soldiers, who did the 
comparatively easy duties of grooms, caretakers, and 
servants. The distribution was made by means of 
documents, and in these documents you could not tell 
these Ivanovs, Petrovs, and Antonovs, one from the 
other. 

The supervisor tried to dissuade the soldiers, and 
then he said that he would send their petition to the 
staff. Most surprised at their request was our cleik, 
the military supernumerary official Bruk, a nice-look- 
ing and appallingly cowardly boy. 

"But it is much quieter here," he insisted. "What 
is going to happen there ? They will kill you, and you 
will leave a family behind !" 

"Never mind, all I have is a wife. If they kill me, 
she'll marry another." 

Thus spoke a tall fellow with a hoarse, low voice, 
an ex-grenadier. His face looked stern and intro- 
spective, as though he were peering at something in 
his soul, something big and important. 

**But if you are wounded ! If you lose both your 
legs, and are left a cripple for the rest of your 
life!" 

"What of it?" He was silent for a moment, and 
then slowly added : "Perhaps I want to suffer." 

Bruk looked in perplexity at him. 



98 IN THE WAR 

"The line is a holy thing," another soldier re- 
marked. 

"But our business is still more holy," Bruk retorted 
in a falsetto voice. "To aid our wounded brothers, by 
our care and love to alleviate their terrible suffer- 
ing. . . ." 

"Not at all ! It's all the same rigmarole ! But over 
there they are shooting, others are fighting, and what 
are we doing? Nobody cares to look at us. Even at 
reviews some general, or the Tsar himself, looking at 
us, says, 'Oh, well, they are not of the line,' and rides 
past us." 

On the twenty-ninth of September the firing in- 
creased in intensity. The guns roared without in- 
terruption, and along the positions it sounded as though 
enormous cupboards were tumbling over each other 
with a thundering noise. The projectiles flew into the 
distance with a whistling screech, and these screeches 
blended together and howled like a hurricane. The 
rifle fire crackled constantly. There were rumors that 
the Japanese had outflanked our right wing and were 
ready to break through the centre. Soldier orderlies 
on horseback kept riding up to us and asking us 
whether we did not know where such-and-such a staff 
was. We did not know. One soldier shrugged his 
shoulders in gloomy pensiveness, saying: 

"What shall I do now.? I was sent by the com- 
mander with a special despatch; I have been riding 
since morning, and nobody can direct me." 

He rode on dispiritedly, not knowing whither to go. 

Towards evening we received from the Staff of the 
Corps the order for the two hospitals to proceed south 
immediately, and to stop and encamp at the Sha-ho 
Station. The carts were hurriedly loaded, and the 
horses hitched to them. The sun was setting. To the 
south, not more than a verst away, the flashes of the 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 99 

Japanese shrapnel burst in clusters and the rifle detona- 
tions cracked all the time. We were supposed to go 
straight there. 

Sultanov, angry and confused, was sitting in his 
farmhouse and trying to find the Sha-ho Station on 
the map. It was the second station on the railway, 
but in his excitement Sultanov could not find it. He 
angrily cursed the authorities. 

"The devil knows what this is ! According to law, 
the movable field hospitals are supposed to be sta- 
tioned eight versts from the positions, and we are sent 
right to the firing-line." 

It was really impossible to see what our hospitals 
could do in that hell which was glistening and rumbling 
in the distance. We surgeons gave each other our 
home addresses, so that, in case of danger, our families 
might be informed. 

The projectiles tore by, the rifle fire rattled. On 
the soul fell both dread and joy, as though wings had 
grown out, and suddenly it became clear why the sol- 
diers had asked to be transferred to the line. The 
"Boy-Sister" sat on her horse, with a blanket in place 
of a saddle, and with eager, rapacious eyes looked into 
the misty distance, where the shrapnel burst more and 
more brightly. 

"Shall we blunder again, and not get to the right 
place?" she said, agitatedly. "Gentlemen, persuade 
the chief surgeon to take a guide." 

"We blundered in daytime, so what will it be at 
night?" Selyukov said, ominously, heaving a sigh. 
"And the horses are fresh and timid. When the first 
projectile falls, they will run away with the whole bag- 
gage-train." 

We moved towards the railway and followed the 
track to the south. Telegraph posts, broken to splin- 
ters, lay all about, and the wires were down and in a 
tangle. We were overtaken by a Cossack, who handed 



100 IN THE WAR 

packages to the two chief surgeons. They were orders 
from the corps. The hospitals were commanded to 
pack up immediately, to leave Sha-ho Station — it was 
assumed that we were already there — and to return 
to our former camping place at Su-ya-tun. 

In good spirits we all turned back. Only the "Boy- 
Sister" was grieved and ready to cry from annoyance. 
She kept turning around and looking with burning, 
sorrowful eyes at the distance, which was seething with 
battle. 

We pitched our tents and ate our supper. It was a 
warm, calm evening. A dark, smoky cloud veiled the 
horizon, and the stars shone dimly. The fighting did 
not stop. In the night a thunder-storm burst upon us. 
The thunder rattled violently, and streaks of lightning 
cut through the air. And the projectiles continued 
to whistle by into the dark distance. The guns roared, 
interrupting the rumbling of the thunder. The rifle 
fire crackled feverishly and spasmodically. Heaven 
and earth blended together and whirled around in roar- 
ing, flashing madness. Through the sheets of rain 
dark columns of soldiers moved along the road, and 
the bayonets glittered in the flashes of lightning like 
streaks of fire. 

Again a day, a second, and third, passed. The 
fighting continued, and we still stood packed up. What 
was this ? Had they forgotten us ? No. At Ugolnaya 
Station, on the sidings, everywhere, stood field hos- 
pitals, and they, too, were packed up. The sur- 
geons yawned, almost died of ennui, and played 
cards. 

It began to rain, and we moved from the tents to a 
Chinese farmhouse. We were crowded and uncom- 
fortable, and the Sisters were placed in a corner of the 
room. At night they screened themselves from us with 
shawls. From Sultanov's hospital the surgeons and 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 101 

the Sisters came to visit us, all except Sultanov's niece, 
Novitskaya, who never left her farmhouse. But 
Zinaida Arkadevna called on us very frequently. Ele- 
gantly attired, coquetting with her snow-white apron 
and red cross, she told us that the commander of such- 
and-such a division had dined with them, and that "our 
dear Sergyey Pavlovich" (the Corps Commander) had 
visited them on such-and-such a day. Zinaida Arkadev- 
na recalled Moscow and drew a deep sigh. 

"Oh, Lord, how I would enjoy a chicken-pie just 
now !" she said, in her charming, affected drawl. "I am 
just crazy to have a bite of it!" 

Selyukov gloomily replied: 

"Well, that isn't so terrible as yet, but just wait 
until the time when you will be crazy for a piece of 
black bread." 

"Yes, a chicken-pie, and some champagne," Zinaida 
Arkadevna said, meditatively. 

The conversation turned to the rumors that the hos- 
pital surgeons and the Sisters were about to be ordered 
to the dressing-stations. 

"Well, you do not frighten me. I am a fatalist," 
Zinaida Arkadevna remarked. But it was only the 
evening before that our Sisters had laughingly told 
us how Zinaida Arkadevna and Novitskaya had been 
disturbed by these rumors, and had declared that, let 
others think what they might, they saw no reason for 
going right under fire. 

Zinaida Arkadevna says good-bye and is about to 
walk off. In the comer, half-concealed in the shadow, 
sits our senior Sister. 

"Oh, I haven't said good-bye to you! Good-bye!" 
Zinaida Arkadevna exclaims, good-naturedly. 

"We are insignificant people ; it is easy not to notice 
us," the Sister replies, reservedly. 

"Not at all! You are always in uniform, in caps 
and dresses, so that you can be noticed at once. Not 



102 IN THE WAR 

at all like us revolutionaries," Zinaida Arkadevna re- 
plies, with a smile. 

In our village and all around the village they were 
looting on a large scale. They gathered from the fields 
stacks of kao-liang, chumiz, and butter-beans, they 
dragged away from the Chinese everything they could 
lay their hands on. Excited Chinamen kept coming to 
us and begging us to protect them. We did what we 
could, but of course it was only a drop in the bucket. 
It was nobody's duty to protect the Chinese, the 
Chinese themselves were helpless, and the impunity 
of looting intoxicated and turned the soldiers' heads. 
One morning, upon arising, I heard under the window 
Russian and Chinese cries — the chief surgeon shouted 
hurriedly : 

"Hold them, hold them!" 

I jumped out of doors. The supervisor stood at the 
gate and angrily repeated: 

"The devil take it ! The devil take it !" 

Across the field, over balks of kao-liang, were run- 
ning the chief surgeon, a few of our soldiers. Chinamen, 
and an old Chinese woman, the proprietress of our 
farm. I ran after them. 

From the Chinese graves two Cossacks were gallop- 
ing, sheathing their sabres as they fled. Our soldiers 
were holding a pale artilleryman by the arm, and before 
them stood the chief surgeon. Near a conical grave a 
lean black sow lay panting. From under her left 
shoulder flowed dark blood. 

"Oh, you, son-of-a-b — — !" the chief surgeon cried, 
excitedly. "Have him arrested!" 

We walked back. The Chinamen carried away the 
dying pig. The supervisor came up, and soldiers from 
our detachment gathered in a crowd. 

"Where do you belong?" the chief surgeon asked 
sternly. 

"To the Artillery Brigade," the prisoner replied. 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 103 

On his frightened, pale face stood out a sandy mus- 
tache, and copious freckles, and the folds of his cloak 
were covered with blood. "Your Honor, permit me to 
tell you that it wasn't I. I only passed by. Just 
look at it!" He took his sword out of the sheath and 
showed it to the surgeon. "Please look at it. There 
is no blood on it." 

"But how did it get the clay on it.'' Why did you 
take out your sword.?" 

"They asked me to help them.^' 

"Who are they.?" 

"I can't tell you." 

"Very well. Then you alone will be placed under 
arrest. Take him away! Arkadi Nikolaevich, make 
a report about him," Davydov said, turning to the 
supervisor. 

"Your Honor, please let me go. His Honor Captain 
Verevkin is waiting for me." 

"Let him wait! I hope he did not send you out 
to steal ! Rascals ! Worse than robbers ! Do you not 
know that the Chinamen are peaceable people and that 
no one is allowed to rob them.?" 

The half-butchered pig lay at the gate, and our 
soldiers crowded around it. 

"Gee, but she's lean! It wasn't worth the while!" 
Kucherenko drawled out. "If she had only been 
fat!" 

All looked sympathetically at the prisoner. He was 
taken away, and the soldiers scattered. 

"Superb! That's the way it ought to be done!" I 
purposely said in a loud voice. "This will be a lesson 
to others !" 

" 'A lesson!' How can we help robbing?" a hostler 
replied, sourly. "All our horses would starve, and 
there would be no fuel with which to start the jfires. 
You see the horses over there, eating rice straw.? It's 
all stolen ! The horses are furnished two pecks of oats. 



104 IN THE WAR 

and no horse can get enough out of that ! They will all 
starve !" 

"Let them starve !'* said I. "That's none of your 
business ! That is the business of the authorities. All 
you have to do is to feed the horses, and not to supply 
the provender." 

The soldier smiled. 

"Yes, sir. When, during the march, the wagons 
stuck in the river, we were all driven into the water 
to help the horses out. How many of us men got the 
fever! Why? Because the horses had no strength. 
No, Your Honor, you are wrong about it. No swiping, 
no eating!" 

"The senior surgeon is scolding the artilleryman and 
says that he will have him court-martialled," another 
remarked. "But what did he tell us ? Grab, boys, says 
he, all you can, only see to it that I don't notice it! 
Why does he not threaten us with the court-martial?" 

"It's good business for him, if we loot. For ex- 
ample, let me get into the hands of the captain who 
sent that artilleryman here. He would immediately 

say: 'Oh, you robber, son-of-a-b ! Do you not 

know that they are peaceable citizens? Court-martial 
him!'" 

The soldiers laughed and I was silent, because they 
were in the right. 

Our landlord, a young Chinaman with a fine, sunburnt 
face, thanked the chief surgeon warmly for his protec- 
tion, and presented him with a pair of exquisitely em- 
broidered Chinese slippers. Davydov laughed, patted 
the Chinaman on his shoulder, and said, "Shango 
(good) !" In the evening, our clerk told us, he asked 
the landlord to sign his name to a paper. In this paper 
it said that the signer had sold to our hospital so many 
puds of kao-liang seed and rice straw, having received 
in full such and such a sum. The Chinaman was fright- 
ened and began to refuse. 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 105 

"Very well, then don't sign your own name, sign any 
other name; it doesn't make any difference," said the 
chief surgeon. 

This the Chinaman agreed to do, and he received, 
as a reward, a ruble, while our office was enriched by 
means of an "auditing document" to the sum of 617 
rubles, 75 kopeks — forged documents are not fond of 
round numbers. 

With every day the looting in our village assumed 
greater proportions. The soldiers and Cossacks car- 
ried off the candlesticks and . censors from the shrine, 
and smashed the clay gods. It was rumored that the 
hearts of the gods were made of gold, and the soldiers 
were trying to find these golden hearts. From the 
farmhouses and yards they carried off frames, boxes^ 
ploughs and doors, with which to start their fires. The 
Chinamen, in despair, let it all be done, did not run for 
help, and did not close their gates. Like bronze figures, 
they silently stood at the doors and looked at the 
entering and leaving looters. 

They brought to our village from the positions three 
Hung-hu-tziis. At daybreak the dragoons took them 
behind the fence and cut their heads off. Our landlord 
informed us that these three Chinamen were not Hung- 
hu-tziis at all, but peasants from a neighboring village, 
and "heap good" men. Their capital punishment had 
a powerful effect upon the Chinamen. Their faces be- 
came even more dispassionate and more immovable, and 
next morning they all disappeared from the village. 
Our landlord, too, went off with his old mother. His 
wife and children had been sent to Mukden before our 
arrival. 

On leaving, he smiled politely and kindly as ever, 
listening and trying to understand what he was being 
told. He went away with the old woman, taking only 
the most precious things with him. But even before 
his departure our soldiers had been rummaging through 



106 IN THE WAR 

that half of the house which they occupied. When the 
Chinese left, the soldiers filled the farmhouse like flies 
in a glass trap. To our remonstrances the supervisor 
answered that he was under no obligation to protect 
the property of those who had left, that they had 
turned nothing over to him, and that he had no guards 
for protection. Indeed, there was nothing that could 
be said against it. 

The soldiers swarmed in the farmhouse all day. In 
the vestibule, between clay vats, called "kanha," lay 
all kinds of lumber, cups, and a queer looking hatchet. 
On the floor of the house lay trunks and cupboards 
which had been broken open by the soldiers, and a red, 
carved image-box, which had been torn from under 
some idols on the wall. 

A sentry, who had just done duty, entered the farm- 
house, wearing a Chinese cotton cloak over his over- 
coat. These cloaks took the place of fur jackets, which 
had not yet been provided for the soldiers. 

"Boys, you had better look under ground, in the 
cellars," he advised our soldiers; and, noticing me, he 
sternly added, "Maybe guns are concealed there." 

A soldier merrily dropped down from the loft, throw- 
ing a whole mass of Chinese slippers on the floor. The 
other soldiers began to carry them off. Some went 
into the yard and dug up a dirt-heap near the fence. 
They found a door to the cellar, and from there they 
fetched a chaff-cutter and a spade, and hurriedly began 
to throw the dirt back on the door. 

"There is nothing more there," they said purposely, 
in loud voices, but it was obvious that they intended 
to come later, in order to rummage through the cellar 
at their ease. 

At dusk I again entered the farmhouse. Nobody 
was there. The clay vat had for some reason been 
turned upside down and smashed, and in the vestibule 
stood clotted puddles of leavened kao-liang., Jllvery- 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 107 

where could be seen white fragments of broken dishes, 
and torn nets and seines. It made me sad to look at 
it : all this trash was hardly worth anything, but it had 
cost so much labor to get it together, and now that it 
was all destroyed it would cost no end of labor to 
replace it. 

The sky was clear. Venus shone brightly in the west. 
Tall, stately poplars rose behind the fence. A cricket 
quietly chirped in a black crack of the oven, from which 
the kettle had been removed. In the field were the 
homeless dogs. All about us was calm ruin and pensive 
decline. The air began to take on a silvery sheen in the 
moonlight, and the poplars stood motionless. One 
could not help thinking what a peaceful life the exiles 
had been living here. On the doorposts were the 
strange, colored figures of the entrance gods, and the 
vertical strips of paper with the queer inscriptions. I 
remembered how, during the march, a Chinaman had 
explained to me the inscription, as saying: 

"Good to speak.' 



1, '9 



On the first of October we received the order to pitch 
the hospital at once and prepare for the reception of 
the wounded. The work went on all day long. They 
placed three enormous tents, filled the mattresses with 
straw, and organized the operating-room and the drug- 
store. 

Next evening they brought the first transport of 
the wounded, during a pouring rainstorm. They took 
the wet, shivering, bleeding men out of the shaky two- 
wheeled carts, and carried them into the tents. Our 
soldiers, who were tired of inactivity, worked joyfully 
and with a vim. They gently raised the wounded, 
placed them on the litters, and carried them into the 
tents. 

They brought in a soldier wounded by a Shimose 
shrapnel. His face was like a mass of bloody flesh, 



108 IN THE WAR 

both his hands were crushed, and his whole body was 
burned. Those who were wounded in the abdomen 
were groaning. On the straw lay a young soldier with 
a childish face, whose hip was broken. When they 
touched him, he began to weep pitifully and captiously, 
like a little child. In the corner sat a warrant-officer 
who had been hit by three bullets. He had been lying 
for three days in the field, and it was only to-day they 
had picked him up. With glistening eyes the warrant- 
officer told excitedly how their regiment had made an 
attack on a Japanese village. 

"No firing was heard from the village. The regi- 
mental commander said: 'Boys, the little Jap has lost 
courage. He has run away from the village. Let us 
go and occupy it !' We advanced in chains. The com- 
mander scolded, 'Line up, you rabble! Don't run 
ahead !' They took it into their heads to drill us and 
to shout, and they just sent the shivers through us! 
And Brother Jap took an aim and began to warm us 
up. The dust was raised all about us, and men began 
to fall. The colonel raised his head, and peered through 
his glasses, while they were pouring it on us. 'Well, 
boys, move forward to an attack!' And he himself 
turned his horse around and galloped away !" 

Our soldiers listened eagerly and heaved sighs. 

"Everybody was running. I fell. Near me lay a 
countryman of mine. He tried to raise himself, but 
he fell down again. 'My friend,' says he, 'lift me up.' 
But what could I do.? I couldn't raise myself!" 

It was like twilight in the tent; the lamps burned 
dimly. Groans and sobs rose everywhere. The Sis- 
ters gave tea to the wounded. We tightened the blood- 
soaked bandages, and where necessary put on new ones. 
There were no more bandages. I sent to the drug-store 
of the tent-supervisor for some. The messenger re- 
turned with the report that the apothecary would not 
give out any without a written request. I asked a Sis- 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 109 

ter to go to the drug-store and tell the apothecary that 
I would write out the request later, but that he should, 
in the meanwhile, furnish the bandages at once. The 
Sister went away and, upon returning, shrugged 
her shoulders in surprise, and informed me that the 
apothecary refused to give them without a written 
request. 

Our apothecary was an unusually unintelligent man 
and a drunkard; but he produced the effect of a very 
kind and dear fellow. What had happened to him.? 
We later learned to know him better: the drug-store 
was for him, as it were, the central mechanism of the 
world, and in its sacred movement nothing could be 
changed, even by a hair's breadth. Usually meek and 
obliging, Mikhail Mikhaylovich became intoxicated in 
the drug-store from the height of his situation, and 
when he was intoxicated — no matter whether from 
brandy or from the consciousness of the importance of 
his drug-store — ^he became arrogant and haughty. I 
went myself to sec him. 

"Mikhail Mikhaylovich, my dear man, what makes 
you so unreasonable? Please let me have the bandages 
at once, for the wounded are losing blood." 

"Take the trouble to make a written request," he 
answered, drily, with compressed lips. 

"But what difference does it make to you whether 
the petition is written now or later? This is the third 
time I have requested the same thing from you." 

*'I don't know anything about that. I can furnish 
things from the drug-store only by written request." 
In his voice I could hear the cold malice of a Rus- 
sian official who felt in himself the right to do some- 
thing nasty. 

"The devil take it ! Give me paper, and I will write 
it out!" 

"I have no paper to spare ! Get some from the 
senior surgeon ! I myself get the paper only upon writ- 



110 IN THE WAR 

ten request and am obliged to render account of it. 

Yes, sir, no trifling now!" 

It became necessary to have recourse to the chief 
surgeon, in order to check the apothecary's overzealous 
relation to his work. 

We were busy with the wounded until late into the 
night. We had two cases for amputation. We ex- 
tracted from the buttocks of an artillerj^man the dis- 
tance tube of a shrapnel, a broad copper cone, which 
had shattered the buttocks, and had torn the colon. In 
the night a new transport of wounded arrived. In 
the distance roared the cannon, and the dark heavens 
burst as if into sheet-Hghtning from the reflections of 
the discharges. Everywhere blood-stained, freezing 
men groaned. A soldier whose cheek and jaws a bullet 
had smashed, sat with his beard blackened with gore, 
and spat stringy clots of blood. Over the head of 
the surgeon who leaned down to him shook in even 
motion the tense fingers of the hands that were 
quivering in fear, and long drawn out sobs were 
heard. 

"Oh, good saints !" 

And in the distance the reflections of roaring dis- 
charges still glistened, and it was terrible to perceive 
the sensation which drew one on to the frightful en- 
chantment of what was taking place there. But there 
was no enchantment — everything was wretched, gory 
and criminal. 

In the morning the order came to transport the 
wounded men immediately to the sanitary train. What 
was that for ? We were all perplexed. There were not 
a few who had been wounded in the abdomen or in the 
head, and for them the most important and necessary 
thing was rest. Now we had to lift them up, load them 
on shak}^ two-wheeled carts, drive them half a verst to 
the station, there again unload them, and transfer them 
to the sanitary train. 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 111 

Our hospitals began to work, and our work was still 
more senseless than our previous inactivity. 

From the dressing-stations they kept bringing the 
wounded. We placed them in the tents, and changed 
the bandages that were soaked with blood. According 
to the time of day, we gave them dinner or tea, and 
in the evening we loaded them all on the carts, and 
drove them to the station. What use was there in 
stopping with us within half a verst of the station, 
when the wounded had already been driven five or six 
versts.'' It frequently happened that we merely exam- 
ined the newly-brought wounded in the carts, and by 
virtue of our authority immediately sent them on to 
the station in the same carts. The chief surgeon did 
not object to this, but only persisted in demanding 
that the wounded that were brought in should be en- 
tered on the records and should b€ sent along with our 
tickets. 

At the station we loaded the wounded on the sanitary 
train. 

A train, glittering with royal magnificence, steamed 
up. The long white cars with their plate-glass win- 
dows looked clean and comfortable. The wounded, in 
snow-white linen, lay on soft spring mattresses. Sisters 
and surgeons were everywhere, and in a special car 
was the operating-room, the kitchen, and the laundry. 
The train went off, noiselessly swaying on soft springs, 
and its place was taken by another, which consisted 
exclusively of common, clumsy baggage cars. The 
doors were rolled aside, the wounded were dragged with 
difficulty into the high cars without steps, and were 
placed on the floor which had just been cleaned of 
manure. There were no stoves, and no toilet-rooms. 
The cars were cold and ill-smelling. The severely 
wounded evacuated under themselves. Those who could, 
rushed out of the cars and dragged themselves to the 
toilet-room of the station. The train whistled, jerked 



112 IN THE WAR 

mightily, and the cars began to move. The wounded 
were jolted about on the floor, where they crouched, 
groaning and cursing. There was no communication 
between the cars. If a hemorrhage started, the wounded 
man died before the train-surgeon could reach him at 
the next stop. 

Here is what Dr. B. Kozlovski tells in the Russian 
Surgeon (1905, No. 5) about the transportation of 
the wounded during the Sha-ho Battle: 

"The transported soldiers suffered severely from 
cold, the more so since they had not been furnished 
with any warm clothing, and only a few could obtain 
warm Chinese covers and clothes in Mukden, and even 
these were far from sufficient. In order to keep them- 
selves warm, the transported soldiers made fires in some 
of the cars, over bricks and so forth ; but that was 
an exception. For the most part, the trains were 
despatched without any arrangements, without kitch- 
ens, without candles, without any classification of the 
sick, and almost without any medical personnel. Thus 
one of the trains arrived in Harbin in charge of only 
one officer and one Sister. There were trains that 
travelled all night in the dark, on account of the lack 
of candles, and that proceeded for several stations with- 
out any medical personnel, which was provided for only 
at Tieh-ling. Nor was it any better with the feeding 
of the sick. It was necessary to feed the transported 
soldiers at the military provision stations, but here a 
whole series of misunderstandings took place : now an 
inexperienced commander had failed to send off a tele- 
gram in time, now a train was several hours late ; and 
in consequence, the patients frequently went without 
warm food for two days at a time, and starved in cold, 
unheated cars. The nearer to Harbin, the more ob- 
structed the road became, and the more did the trans- 
ports freeze and starve." 

In the same Russian Surgeon (No. 14) is given 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 113 

the account of a surgeon, which refers to the period 
of the Liao-yang battle: "One night he heard some 
groans proceeding from a hermetically closed car. 
Upon opening the car, he saw there a man who had 
been wounded in the head, in a dazed condition, and 
who had torn off the bandage. The wounded man stood 
at the window of the baggage-car and with his fingers 
picked clots of crushed brain out of the wound, and 
examined them in the moonlight; while on the floor in 
the darkness lay men wounded in the abdomen, with 
incipient peritonitis, who, at every jolt of the car, burst 
into loud groans and curses. There was a stench in 
the car from the evacuations under the wounded. The 
closeness and thirst increased the sufferings of the un- 
fortunate men. Apparently the groans of the trans- 
ported soldiers were heard in St. Petersburg, for, to- 
wards the end of August, persons were collecting ma- 
terial about the transportation, and, as a result, there 
appeared a report and attempts to improve said trans- 
portation." 

During the Sha-ho Battle, as we saw, these "at- 
tempts" had not yet been crowned with success, and 
everything was done as of old. Here is what took place 
at the meeting of the Tieh-ling Medical Society, as late 
as January, 1905, not long before the Mukden Battle : 

"The communication of N. V. Reno, about the trans- 
portation of the wounded and sick in heated cars, was 
received. The lady who made the report described 
in vivid colors the torments suffered by the sick who 
were transported in these trains, and pointed out the 
humiliating situation of the medical personnel accom- 
panying them, for they were almost impotent in their 
struggle with the mass of disorders presented by the 
trains in their present condition. During the exchange 
of opinions, in which the engineers also took part, it 
became clear that, in spite of a year of war, almost 
nothing had been done for the improvement of these 



114 IN THE WAR 

trains, although these improvements were possible at a 
comparatively small cost, and with the local means of 
the railway shops. For an all-sided consideration of 
ways and means, necessary for a satisfactory introduc- 
tion of improvements in the heated sanitary trains, the 
Society appointed a commission, in whose labors the 
engineers kindly promised to take part. The data 
collected by this commission, and the project of a re- 
construction of the car, which had been offered by 
the engineer Savkevich, were sent to the Chief of the 
Sanitary Division of the Army by a vote of the Society. 
'I do not find it convenient to dwell here,' adds the writer 
of the article, 'on the unexpected results of this re- 
port.' " (The Russian Surgeon, 1905, No. 25.) 

The result was very simple. From the Chief of the 
Sanitary Division, General F. F. Trepov, there came, 
instead of an answer, the inquiry on what basis the 
Tieh-ling Medical Society existed. The reply was that 
it existed on the basis of a decree, confirmed by the 
Chief of the Rear Army, General Nadarov, and estab- 
lishing the Harbin Medical Society, of which the Tieh- 
ling Society was a branch. Let me remark parentheti- 
cally that the existence of the Tieh-ling Society had 
long been known to Trepov. The society had earlier 
written to him of the necessity of establishing at Tieh- 
ling an isolation building for contagious patients, but 
to this no answer had been received. 

A second paper was received from the Chief of the 
Sanitary Division, to the effect that the authority of 
General Nadarov did not extend to Tieh-ling. This 
was the end of the affair. 

All around us, at the stations and on the sidings, 
field hospitals stood everywhere. Some of them had 
not yet received the order to unpack. Others, like 
ours, were already established. From a distance the 
enormous canvas tents with bright green ridges could 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 115 

be seen, while Red Cross flags provokingly flapped in 
the wind. 

"What are you men really doing?" I asked the sur- 
geons of these hospitals. 

"What are we doing .^^ Why, we register the wounded 
who pass," the physicians answered, with a smile. "We 
continually get telegrams to send them on immediately. 
Those who are registered get their allowances, and the 
allowances for the lower ranks are sixty kopeks a day, 
while those for an officer are one rouble and twenty 
kopeks. The supervisors walk around, rubbing their 
hands." 

Thus did the hospitals work in our locality. But in 
the Mukden stone barracks, which we had turned over 
to the hospitals of the Second Division of our Corps, 
the following was going on meanwhile : 

Wounded men were brought to the barracks in an 
uninterrupted stream. It was as though a dam had 
given way. They brought new patients continually. 
They came walking, even those who were wounded in 
the abdomen. Through all the doors men with blood- 
stained bandages poured in. In one of the buildings 
there were three hundred cots ; in another, one hundred 
and eighty. Now more than a thousand wounded were 
crowded in each of them, — not only was there no suf- 
ficiency of cots, but there had long existed an insuf- 
ficiency of straw and mattings, or even a free space 
under a roof. The wounded lay on the floor between 
the cots, in the aisles and vestibules of the barracks, 
and filled the hospital tents, which were pitched nearby. 
And yet there was not room for all. They lay in the 
open, in the rain and wind, blood-stained, shivering, 
and wet through, and the cold air was filled with their 
quavering groans. 

The "specially attached" surgeons, who, when we 
were there, crowded the barracks without any work, 
had now all been sent by Gorbatsevich to the various 



116 IN THE WAR 

regiments. They all left in Swedish tunics, without 
overcoats. Gorbatsevich simply would not allow them 
to go to Harbin and fetch their belongings. The whole 
enormous work in the two Mukden barracks was now 
done by eight regular surgeons. They worked without 
interruption, day and night, barely able to stand on 
their legs. And they kept bringing in new wounded. 

There were not enough kettles in the kitchens. As 
many as there were, they were all filled with boiling 
soup, on the assumption that the hungry wounded 
would want to eat; but the majority of those who 
arrived begged for something to drink, rather than 
something to eat. They turned away from the hot, 
salty soup, and begged for water. There was no 
water; there was no place to prepare boiled water, 
and unboiled water could not be given to them, because 
all about raged dysentery and intestinal typhoid. 

So what were these Mukden barracks doing? 

They, too, were transporting, and that was all. And 
this was even more curious than with us. They trans- 
ported not only the wounded who had been brought 
directly from the positions; but also the wounded who 
arrived from the south on the heated sanitary trains, 
who were unloaded at Mukden and transferred to the 
barracks, in order to be hauled back to the station next 
day, loaded into heated cars, and transported further 
on. One might have thought that some malicious devil 
had purposely arranged it so, in order to rejoice at 
the immeasurable human suffering. But no, the devil 
was not malicious, and had no desire to rejoice; he had 
a dry, dispassionate, paper soul, an eye for bustle and 
business, and he supposed that he was doing the right 
thing. 

Telegrams kept arriving in the barracks from the 
military medical authorities: "Transport four hun- 
dred men immediately," "Transport seven hundred men 
immediately." In the clutches of some incomprehensi- 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO llT 

ble, mad delirium, the authorities thought only of one 
thing, namely, how to get the wounded as far away 
from the position as possible. The Sha-ho Battle did 
not end with a retreat of the army — never mind! it 
might end with a retreat — and so the heavily wounded, 
who above all needed rest, were, for days at a time, 
loaded on cars, unloaded again, dragged from place to 
place, shaken up and jolted in two-wheeled carts and 
heated baggage cars. 

At the conclusion of the battle, Kuropatkin, with a 
feeling of great satisfaction, sent a despatch to the 
Minister of War, to be transmitted to the Tsar : 

"During the engagements from September 25 to 
October 8, there were transferred from the field of ac- 
tion of the Manchurian Army to Mukden, and hence 
transported to the Rear: wounded and sick officers, 
945; lower ranks, 31,111. The transportation of so 
considerable a number of wounded took place in so 
brief a time, thanks to the energy, activity, and co- 
operation of the members of the Sanitary and Medical 
Departments." 

All the wounded were unanimous in their statements 
that the wounds were not nearly so terrible as the trans- 
portation in these hellish carts and cars. Those who 
suffered from internal wounds perished in them like 
flies. Fortunate v/as a man with an abdominal injury, 
who for three or four days wallowed on the field of 
battle and was not picked up : he lay there without aid 
and alone, suffered thirst and cold, and at any moment 
packs of dogs might attack him, — but he had his so 
necessary rest. When he was picked up, the intestinal 
wounds had closed up to a certain extent, and he was 
out of danger. 

Disobeying the direct commands of the authorities, 
the surgeons of the Mukden barracks, at their own risk, 
set aside a part of the building for patients with in- 
ternal wounds, and did not send them on. The result 



118 IN THE WAR 

was striking: every one of the twenty-four men got 
well, — only one suffered from limited peritonitis, and 
one from suppurating pleuritis. But both improved. 

Towards the end of the battle, the viceroy made a 
visit to the barracks, and distributed St. Georges to 
the wounded soldiers. After the viceroy's departure, 
everybody giggled, and his adjutants confusedly swung 
their arms and confessed that, to tell the truth, all 
these crosses should be taken back. 

Here comes the viceroy, followed by his suite. On 
a cot lies a pale soldier, over his abdomen an enormous 
hoop, and on the abdomen some ice. 
*'How were you wounded .P" 

"You see, sir, I was walking. Your Excellency, when 
suddenly, bang! she hit me straight in the belly. I 
don't remember, I don't remember what!" 

The viceroy pins a St. George on him, but who was 
thsii she? A Shimose.? Oh, no! A baggage-cart. It 
was overturned on the slope of a hill, and crushed the 
driver. He had not even smelt powder. 

The St. George was given to soldiers who had been 
wounded in the back, while in flight. For the most 
part, soldiers who lay near the aisles received the 
decoration. Those who lay farther away towards the 
wall remained unrewarded. However, there was one 
who did get a reward. He was convalescing, and he 
was told that in a few days he would be sent to the 
convalescent ward. The soldier pushed his way through 
the wounded men to the aisle, stood at attention before 
the viceroy, and exclaimed : 

"Your Excellency, please have me transferred to the 
line. I want to serve my Tsar and country more." 
The viceroy looked at him benevolently. 
^^Let the doctors attend to the transfer! Mean- 
while, take this." 

And he pinned a St. George to his cloak. 

I now bad the chance to confirm the stories which 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 119 

I had heard before as to the manner in which the crosses 
were distributed. One soldier received a St. George 
who, while drunk, had fallen under a train and had lost 
both his legs ; and another, whose head had been split in 
a fight with his comrade. There were many more of 
this kind. 

During the battle, as I have already said, four 
regular surgeons were working in every building of 
the barracks. When the fight was over, and the wave 
of the wounded subsided, the surgeons received the as- 
sistance of fifteen reserve surgeons from Harbin; but 
these had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do. 

While the battle was going on, none of the superiors 
put in their appearance in the barracks ; but now they 
began to visit it frequently. Again there were repri- 
mands, threats of arrest, and confused, contradictory 
orders. 

Gorbatsevich made his appearance. 

"What is this.'' The patients' cloaks are lying on 
the beds!" 

"There is no store-room. Your Excellency!" 

"Then drive some nails over the beds and let them 
hang on nails !" 

The nails were driven in. Later Trepov appeared. 

"Is this a store-house ? Why do you let these cloaks 
hang here.? They cut ofF the light, and fill the room 
with dust and contagion!" 

"But we were ordered to do so by the Medical Field 
Inspector." 

"Take them away at once!" 

Ezerski, the Inspector of Hospitals, did things in 
his own way. A young surgeon, but lately called from 
the reserve, was in charge for the day. Hp was sitting 
in the receiving room at a table, reading a paper. 
Ezerski entered and crossed the room once or twice. 
The surgeon looked at him and continued reading. 
Ezerski walked up and asked: 



120 IN THE WAR 

"How many sick have you?" 

"How many sick? I'll see," the surgeon said, good- 
naturedly, stretching out his arm for the record of 
the patients. 

"Please, you see that a stranger is walking up and 
down the hall, and you do not pay the least attention, 
but continue reading. Suppose I am a crazy man!" 

The surgeon raised his brows, surveyed the gen- 
eral, and barely shrugged his shoulders, as much as 
to say that to look at him one could not tell. 

The general was furious and began to shout. Then 
it occurred to the surgeon that it must be some superior 
that was standing before him, so he arose and stood 
at attention. 

"You wiU go under arrest for a week!" 

The orderly entered and, with his hand to his cap, 
said to the general: 

"Pardon, Your Excellency, it is our fault. This 
comrade has just arrived from the reserve, and knows 
no military rules, and we have not told him anything." 

"What! You take his part? Under arrest for 
three days !" 

In Mukden the above-mentioned confusion took place, 
but we, in our village, without hurrying, received and 
despatched transports of the wounded. Fortunately 
for the wounded, the transport trains came less fre- 
quently to us. Again everybody was without work 
and nearly died of ennui. To the south, the guns 
roared as before, and rifle discharges were frequently 
heard. Several times Japanese projectiles began to 
fall and burst near our village. 

One of our regular Sisters fell ill, and after her, 
one of the supernumeraries, an officer's wife. In Sul- 
tanov's hospital, pretty Vyera Nikolaevna was sick. 
All three developed intestinal typhoid, — they had con- 
tracted it in Mukden, while attending the sick. The 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 121 

sick Sisters were transported to the sanitary train in 
Harbin. 

In our village was stationed the staff of one infantry 
division. To this staff they kept bringing under con- 
voy from the positions Chinamen who were tied to each 
other by their queues ; and right near this village their 
heads were chopped off. From all sides came uncertain, 
agitating rumors about the Chinamen's treachery. It 
was said that they sneaked in among the positions, sig- 
nalled the Japanese from the roofs, from trees, and 
from craters, and that they shot at our transports of 
wounded and at the retreating armies. It was impos- 
sible to see how it was done, but in the most important 
places, our telegraph and telephone connections were 
broken. 

In these storie§ there was much that was true: sig- 
nalling Chinamen had frequently been caught red- 
handed. Under the Chinese garment of a vagrant 
sleight-of-hand performer was discovered a Japanese 
spy with a loose queue attached to him. The Japanese 
knew, with amazing precision, the disposition of all 
our parts, and all our transportations. There was 
created the sensation of treason secretly crawling all 
around us, and every Chinaman aroused suspicion. 
From this grew something monstrous which would be 
ludicrous if it were not so terrible. 

In a neighboring village, a Chinaman climbed with 
a sheaf of kao-liang on the roof of his farmhouse, in 
order to patch up a hole. The sheaf glistened in the 
air, a Cossack saw it, and the Chinaman, with a bullet 
through him, rolled down from the roof. About three 
versts ahead of us, one of our mortar batteries was 
hidden beyond a grove. The Japs could not trace 
it, since they did not suspect that it was located so 
close to them. Accidentally a few Chinamen who had 
come from Mukden to fetch some supplies from their 
village, passed by that battery. They were all caught 



122 IN THE WAR 

and cut to pieces. Hired Chinamen brought the 
wounded from the positions to our hospital. When 
ready to return, they asked of us for some "writy- 
writy" (written notes), else they were afraid that the 
soldiers ^ould say that they were Hung-hu-tziis and 
would chop off their heads. Indeed, both at Sha-ho 
and Liao-yang a number of Chinamen who had been 
hired by the Russians for the transportation of the 
wounded, had been killed by them as being spies. 

More than one Chinaman fell as a victim of the helio- 
graph. The majority of our soldiers knew absolutely 
nothing about the heliograph and about its use in the 
Russian Army. Somewhere in the distance are the 
misty, blue mountains, and on a crater there begins 
to flash a small fire. After two or three minutes of 
such flashing it again dies d,own. In the neighboring 
village suddenly a blindingly bright, intermittent light 
glitters somewhere amidst the trees, and above the 
roofs, and again a little fire flashes ominously on the 
distant blue crater. Everybody is seized with an agi- 
tated sensation of mystery and treason, and with the 
desire to do or to prevent something. 

I happened to be out riding with an officer, an 
acquaintance of mine. Two heliographic sappers were 
working on the roof of a Chinese farmhouse. We 
stopped to watch them. Suddenly broken twigs began 
to fall from a tree, bullets whistled in the air, and 
the sappers flew headlong from the roof. Cossacks 
galloped at full speed into the village. 

"Two Chinamen have been giving signals with mir- 
rors from the roof. We have shot one, and the other 
has jumped down and run away. Did you not notice 
where he went.'^" 

"Scoundrels ! Sons-of-b ! Did you get dust into 

your eyes? You have been shooting at us," the sap- 
pers cried in rage at the embarrassed Cossacks. 

The officers of the sappers told me that the China- 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 123 

men had more than once suflPered severely at the hands 
of the Cossacks and soldiers of those villages where the 
heliograph was working. 

Everywhere frightful blunders, which never could 
be corrected, occurred from various causes. Once the 
commander of our corps rode through a Chinese vil- 
lage. From the corner of a clay fence two shots were 
fired in succession apparently at the general. The 
Cossacks of the convoy rushed around the corner, cut 
two Chinamen to pieces, and captured five others. A 
few days later the captives were killed and buried 
near the bank of the brook. The rains washed down 
the banks and the legs in their blue trousers and black 
slippers over white socks stuck out from the clay. 
Much later I learned most confidentially from one of 
the staff" officers that after the execution of the China- 
men it had turned out that it was not they who had 
been doing the shooting, and that the shots had not 
been directed at the general. Two Cossacks, who 
had come to the village, had been hunting a Chinese 
pig. The pig had crossed the road, and the Cossacks 
were shooting at it; and in their hurry, they did not 
observe the carriage of the general that was coming 
around the corner. They saw that they were in a 
fix, and so they galloped away, and the local Chinese 
peasants paid the penalty for them. Later these 
Cossacks themselves told of it to the Cossacks of the 
convoy. The general gave the strictest order not to 
say a word about the misunderstanding that had taken 
place. 

When everything around you is dark, when your 
soul is filled with anxious suspicion, mistakes are so 
easily committed! And they are bitter, terrible mis- 
takes ! Everybody looked upon these blunders with un- 
perturbed equanimity. But what is to be done.? Who 
can make out what is what? There is not time to 
bother about these things. Amidst the close-cropped 



IM IN THE WAR 

heads with white faces, there were some yellow-faced 
men with long queues, and the lives of these yellow- 
faced men were cheaper than a fillip of the fingers. 
Nobody demanded an account from the killing of a 
yellow man. One was allowed to take such a man's 
life by mistake, simply because one felt like swish- 
ing one's sword. A sanguinary mist rose, and veiled 
and intoxicated the soul, and helplessness, like a naked 
woman with hands tied behind her, drew on to itself 
and awakened desire. Here, before you, is a man, 
something precious and inviolable — but if you have the 
desire, just strike him with your sabre or shoot him 
with your gun ! 

A detachment of Circassians rode into a Chinese 
village from the right wing. The Chinamen surrounded 
them and gazed at the strange sight. Suddenly the 
Circassians drew their sabres and began to strike right 
and left, men, women, and children. What for.? They 
explained it very simply! 

"They were in our way!" 

Cossacks were ordered to take to the staff such 
of the Chinamen as had been caught at a position. If 
the Chinamen were sent with a written order, the Cos- 
sacks promptly dehvered them. But if there were no 
written order, they proceeded in a much more simple 
way. "What's the use of bothering with them.f^" They 
would take them into the kao-liang field, kill them with 
their sabres, and cover their bodies with kao-liang. 

If any misunderstanding arose between the soldiers 
stationed in the villages and their Chinese landlords, 
the soldiers would threaten them something like this: 

"Say another word, and we'll go and tell the captain 
that you have threatened a soldier with a knife, and 
off will go your head!" 

I was once out riding. In the gutter by the roadside 
lay two Chinamen, apparently dead. Both were cov- 
ered with blood, and one of them seemed to be §till 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 125 

breathing heavily and slowly. The passers-by stopped, 
looked a while, and calmly rode on. The horses pricked 
up their ears, snorted wildly, and shied to one side. 
Men looked on with the strange curiosity of loafers, 
— in their souls there was no agitation, there was not 
that eternal fear of the destruction of life, — the life 
of a long-haired yelloTf man was no longer felt as life. 
Soon everything became even more mixed up, and 
in the very depths of Russia, white men in the same 
way ceased to feel the life of one another. 

Our village was being destroyed day by day. The 
farmhouses stood doorless and without window-sashes, 
and from many of them the thatches had been carried 
off. The clay walls rose amidst deserted yards cov- 
ered with bits of broken vessels. There were no China- 
men in the village. The dogs had left the farms, where 
now strangers were living, and hungry and wild, they 
raced over the fields in large packs. 

In a neighboring village a sick old Chinese woman 
was lying in a miserable clay hut. Her son had re- 
mained with her. He was unable to take her away, 
because the Cossacks had driven off his mule. The 
window-sashes had been torn down for fire-wood, the 
doors had been taken off, the furniture burned, and 
all the supplies carried away. They suffered from 
hunger and cold in their ruined farmhouse. Suddenly 
the terrible news reached us that the son had, with 
his own hands, cut his mother's throat and left the 
village. 

Our landlord returned from Mukden. When he 
saw his looted house, he sighed and shook his head. 
With his terrible, sweetly-polite smile, he walked 
towards the cellar door, which had been wrenched 
off, let himself down into the cellar, glanced around 
there, and came out again. His immovable face ex- 
pressed nothing. In the evening the Chinaman sat 



126 IN THE WAR 

with the surgeon's assistant on the trunk of a tree 
which had been cut down by us in his garden. With 
a voice of curiosity, he asked the assistant: 

"Fliend, you have a madam?" 

"I have," answered the assistant. 

"Little children have?" the Chinaman asked again, 
pointing about a foot from the floor. 

"I have." 

The assistant heaved a sigh and fell to musing. The 
Chinaman, in a quiet, dispassionate voice, told him 
that he, too, had a madam and three children, and 
that they all lived in Mukden. Mukden was swarm- 
ing with Chinamen who had run away from the villages 
occupied by the Russians. Everything had risen in 
price, for a corner in a farmhouse they asked ten 
rubles a month, a "stick" of onions cost a kopek, and 
a pud of kao-liang, one ruble and a half. But no 
money was to be had. 

He sat with bent head, emaciated, with a fresh olive 
hue on his handsome face. The assistant gave him a 
piece of black bread. The Chinaman eagerly bit into 
the bread with his crooked teeth. 

From the well came our cook with a four-cornered 
black bucket in his hand. 

"Good morning, fliend!" he merrily shouted to the 
Chinaman. 

The Chinaman politely answered with a nod of his 
head. 

"Good morning !" And with a meek smile he pointed 
at the bucket. 

"Eh? Is this your bucket?" 

"Mine," said the Chinaman, smiling. 

"How did you manage to make your way to this 
village?" the assistant asked. "They have deported 
all the Chinamen from here. If you go back, you'll 
fall into the hands of the Cossacks, and they'll chop 
your head off!" 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 127 

"Me not aflaid!" The Chinaman answered, with 
equanimity. 

In the dusk of the evening he went away from the 
village, and we did not see him again. 

At supper the chief surgeon, sighing, harangued as 
follows : 

"Yes, if we are going to burn in the other world, I 
shall unquestionably get into a very hot frying-pan! 
Our landlord came to-day. Apparently he wanted to 
carry oif the three sacks of rice which he had buried 
in the cellar, but our detachment had gotten away 
with them before. It is very likely that he counted 
on them, in order to keep from starving, whereas our 
soldiers have already eaten up the rice." 

"Please, sir, you knew it. How could you have 
permitted it?" we asked. 

The chief surgeon rolled his eyes. 

"I found it out just now." 

"It is all your own fault," Selyukov said, harshly. 
"Not far from us is the division lazaretto. Its super- 
visor called together the detachment and announced to 
them that the first one whom he would catch looting, 
he would have court-martialled. And there has been 
no looting there. But, of course, he buys all the sup- 
plies and the fuel for the soldiers." 

An "awkward silence" ensued. The servants stood 
at the doors with motionless faces, but their> eyes 
laughed. 

"There is in general nothing more shameful and 
contemptible than war," said the chief surgeon, with 
a sigh. 

Everybody was silent. 

"I believe that in time the East will cruelly revenge 
itself on Europe," continued the chief surgeon. 

Esthetic Shantser could not contain himself any 
longer, and began to talk of the yellow peril, of the 
famous picture of the German emperor. 



128 IN THE WAR 

After supper the servants laughingly told us that 
the chief surgeon had known about the sacks of rice 
from the very start. He had given twenty kopeks to 
each of the soldiers who had dug up the rice, and 
was now feeding his detachment with it. 

That division lazaretto, of which Selyukov had 
spoken, presented a remarkable, bright oasis amidst 
the heartless, bleak desert of our management in Man- 
churia. The cause of this extraordinary phenomenon 
was that the commander of the lazaretto and the super- 
visor were simple, honest men, who were not thinking 
of getting rich at the expense of the Chinamen. I hap- 
pened to be in the village where this lazaretto was 
stationed. The village had an extraordinary, incredi- 
ble appearance: the farmhouses and yards were un- 
touched, the doors and windows were unbroken, the 
barns were filled with grain stacks. Chinese children 
gambolled in the streets and women fearlessly walked 
about; and the men had happy faces. The shrine 
was guarded by a sentry. Patrols marched through 
the streets by day and by night, and, to the great sur- 
prise of the strange soldiers and Cossacks who found 
their way to the village, mercilessly arrested the 
looters. 

How different the relations of the Chinamen to the 
Russians were there I We sat for whole days without 
the very necessaries, while in that village there was a 
superabundance of everything. The Chinamen seemed 
to get out of the earth absolutely everything that 
the Russians asked for. No one there was afraid of 
the Hung-hu-tziis, and on the darkest nights all walked 
through the streets of the village unarmed. 

Oh, those Hung-hu-tziis, spies, signallers! How in- 
significant and few they would have been, how easy it 
would have been to get along with them, if the Russian 
Army had even distantly approached being that ex- 
ternally and morally disciplined army that it had been. 



THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 1^9 

represented in the newspapers, by lying, patriotic re- 
porters ! 

The battle gradually and imperceptibly died down. 
Two enormous waves had spread out and had come 
in conflict and now were slowly receding. The two 
armies, with slight changes, remained in their places. 
The guns roared less frequently and more dully, and 
there were fewer wounded. Russians and Japanese sat 
opposite each other in rain-drenched trenches some 
three hundred feet apart, freezing, up to their knees 
in water, and huddling behind breastworks. Whoever 
incautiously peeped over, immediately received a bullet 
in his head. Into the hospitals there now flocked 
patients suff^ering from bronchitis, rheumatism, and 
fever. 

Sprightly Zinaida Arkadevna came running in and 
announced to us that the capture of sixteen guns from 
the Japanese and the occupation of a crater was to 
be expanded into a superb victory, and that they were 
about to begin to consider peace. 

This rumor began to spread. Some officers said re- 
servedly : 

"This is a most propitious moment for peace. We 
have maintained the position, and we can proceed to 
consider peace not as though we were beaten." 

Others were provoked. 

"How is that? It is perfectly clear that a crisis 
is taking place in the war. So far, we have been re- 
treating, but now we have maintained our position. In 
the next battle, we will beat the Japs. Once they 
are beaten, they won't stop running until they reach 
the sea. The Cossacks will have plenty to do. The 
Japs have no more soldiers, while we are getting new 
supplies all the time. Winter is coming on, and the 
Japanese are used to a warm climate. Just wait and 
see how they will squeak in winter time !" 

The majority of the officers were in agreement as to 



130 IN THE WAR 

the winter, but in general they kept quiet and did not 
express their opinions. 

From those who had participated in the war from 
its very beginning, I later frequently heard that the 
general morale had reached its greatest height during 
the Liao-yang Battle. At that time everybody had 
faith in victory, and everybody believed without de- 
ceiving himself. At that time even those officers 
rushed into battle who, a few months later, swarmed 
into the hospitals at the first rumor of a fight. I no 
longer found that elan. While I was there, the morale 
slowly and continuously fell from month to month. 
Men clutched at anything, in order to save the last 
remnant of their faith. 

At first they had said that the Japanese were born 
sailors, that we would beat them on land. Then 
they began to say that the Japanese were used to 
the mountains, that we would beat them in the plains. 
Now they said that the Japanese were used to the 
summer, and that we would beat them in the winter. 
And everybody tried to believe in the winter. 



CHAPTER V 

THE GEEAT STAND: OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 

One evening both our hospitals received from the 
staff of the corps the order to move immediately 
from the village of Siao-kii-shinpu to the west, to 
the village Bei-tai-tsein. When this order was 
received, Sultanov's niece, Novitskaya, was, for some 
reason, very happy. The adjutant from the staff 
of the corps was then visiting them. While seeing 
him out, she was all beaming and asked him to dehver 
her great thanks to the Commander of the Corps. 

The village of Bei-tai-tsein was only two versts 
from the village where we were stationed. In the morn- 
ing our hospital moved away. In Sultanov's hospital 
they were only beginning to pack up ; Sultanov was 
drinking coffee in bed. 

Our chief surgeon took with him from the farm- 
house everything which could be loaded on the wagon, 
— two tables, stools, four elegant red cupboards. He 
ordered the big kettle to be torn out of the stove 
in the vestibule. To our remonstrances he replied: 

"They will loot it anyway. I will return it to them 
later." 

We arrived at Bei-tai-tsein. It was a large village, 
with two long streets, but it was entirely deserted. 
The farmhouses were without their thatches, and the 
clay walls gaped with the black oblongs of open doors 
and windows, from which the wood had been removed 
for fuel. Only in one of the streets there was a row 
of large, well-to-do stone houses, which were entirely 

131 



132 IN THE WAR 

untouched. At the gate of every house stood a sentry. 

^'Are these houses occupied by anybody .?" the sur- 
geon-in-chief asked the sentry. 

"Yes, sir !" 

"Who is stationed here?" 

"The staff of the corps was stationed here. It was 
yesterday transferred to that village. Now Sul- 
tanov's movable field hospital will be stationed here." 

"But who placed the sentry here?" 

"The staff of the corps." 

That was it. Now things became clear. We walked 
through the whole village. After much searching, the 
assistant of the supervisor found in one yard, near 
Sultanov's farmhouses, two miserable, small and dirty 
hovels. There were no other houses in which to be lo- 
cated. The soldiers bivouacked in the gardens; our 
servants cleaned and swept the hovels, and pasted 
up the torn windows with paper. 

We went to examine the farmhouses which were 
kept for Sultanov. The rooms were clean, spacious, 
and luxurious. The sentries told us that for three 
days before the arrival of the Corps Commander a 
whole company of sappers had been fixing up these 
apartments. Now it became obvious why Novitskaya 
was so happy upon the receipt of the order and why 
she had sent her thanks to the Corps Commander. 
And all this senseless transposition of the hospitals 
for the short distance of two versts also became 
obvious. In the other village the whole personnel of 
Sultanov's hospital had been, like ourselves, crowded 
into one house, and that, of course, did not please 
Novitskaya. The incredible question arose whether it 
was possible that hundreds of men were so easily swept 
from one place to another at the beck and call of one 
thin, white finger of Sister Novitskaya. Later on, 
we had frequent occasions to convince ourselves that 
in this finger there was an enormous fairy power. 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 18B 

The servants drove a wagon loaded with our things 
into the small yard, and began to carry the belong- 
ings into the houses which they had cleaned up. At 
the gate of our yard appeared the stately figure of 
Sultanov astride a white horse. 

"Look here! Whose belongings are these.'' Yours?" 
he shouted at Dr. Grechfkhin. 

*'Yes, sir." 

"Be so kind as to take them away. All these are 
our houses." 

"Those houses over there are yours. Nobody told 
us that these are occupied." 

"But I do tell you! Oh, there! Don't take the 
things in!" Sultanov shouted to our servants. 

Shantser and I were standing at the gate. Shantser, 
who was always remarkably indifferent to how things 
were fixed for him, looked with merry curiosity at 
Sultanov. Novitskaya and Zinaida Arkadevna hur- 
riedly walked up to the gate. 

Novitskaya, angry and excited, attacked Shantser. 

"These are our farmhouses. You had no right to 
occupy them. The general had left them for us, and 
our sentry was standing here. You thought, because 
you were the first to arrive, that you could grab any- 
thing !" 

She excitedly showered abuse on him. One could 
only hear rapid, malicious: "Tet-tet-tet !" 

Suddenly all her exquisite languor disappeared, and 
before our eyes officiously flitted a contemptible, vul- 
gar being, with a small head and an ugly turkey 
face. 

"Why do you address me? I have absolutely noth- 
ing to do with it," Shantser replied carelessly, shrug- 
ging his shoulders. 

"It is true, Novitskaya. What has Moisey Grigore- 
vich to do with it?" Zinaida Arkadevna remarked, re- 
servedly. 



134 IN THE WAR 

Novitskaya broke off, and both hurried off to their 
houses. 

Our chief surgeon arrived. He ordered the servants 
to continue carrying the belongings into the house. 
Sultanov turned and addressed him in his indolent, 
careless voice: 

"It would be far better if we divided the village in 
two. We shall take this street, and you that one." 

"Much obliged! Had we not better do it the other 
way.?" answered Davydov, with difficulty suppressing 
his annoyance. "To say the least, I should be 
ashamed to place even dogs in those houses !" 

Ultimately, matters were somehow arranged. We 
took up residence in our farmhouse, and unpacked 
our things. Suddenly Zinaida Arkadevna appeared 
in our yard, with the warrant-officer who was in 
charge of the sentry. She walked through the yard, 
sharply examining everything. 

"Here was the field telegraph, eh? Then this build- 
ing is ours, too? Then why did you not tell them?" 

"Madam, I was commanded to guard only those 
buildings over there." 

"No, this one, too. And don't lie to me, please. The 
general himself told me so, and he pointed it out to 
me. You are a fine commander of the guards ! I'll 
send in a complaint of you to the Corps Commander !" 

She went away with him to the gate of her farm- 
house. A minute later the warrant-officer, saluting, 
came up to Davydov, who was busy watching the con- 
struction of the hospital tents. 

"Your Excellency, please have your houses vacated," 
he said, respectfully. "Else I shall be responsible be- 
fore the commander." 

The chief surgeon burst out like a flash. 

"You tell your commander," he said, emphasizing 
every word, "that I have occupied these farmhouses 
by force. Begone!" 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 135 

Another soldier came running from Sultanov, to 
announce that there had been a misunderstanding- and 
that Sultanov had farmhouses enough. Shantser was 
elated at the answer of our chief surgeon. 

"Superb, superb," he repeated. "For this answer 
much ma J be forgiven him!" 

The Sultanov people established themselves with 
complete comfort. 

Sultanov himself, Novitskaya, and Zinaida Arka- 
devna each took a roomy apartment. A separate 
apartment was given to the four junior surgeons, and 
a separate one to the housekeeping staff. We took 
up our quarters pell-mell in the clay hovels of our 
two small, dirty farmhouses. In the evening the car- 
riage of the Corps Commander and the jaunting- 
car of his adjutant, who had brought to Sultanov 
an invitation to sup with the Corps Commander, 
stood in front of Sultanov's gate. Sultanov appeared, 
together with prinked-up, perfumed Novitskaya and 
Zinaida Arkadevna: they seated themselves in the 
carriage and drove to the neighboring village. In 
the yard the sentry duty was done by Sultanov's cook, 
who had spoiled the cake for the dinner. 

We had the tents pitched for the patients, but it 
was already getting very cold at night. The chief 
surgeon discovered a few farmhouses which were in 
a less ruinous condition than the rest, and he began 
to fix them up for the patients. The carpenters and 
plasterers of our detachment worked for three days 
on these houses. 

The buildings were ready, and we were about to 
transfer the sick from the tents. Suddenly a new 
order came, which was to transport the sick to the 
sanitary train, without delay to break camp, and to 
go to the village of Su-ya-tun, while Sultanov's hos- 
pital was to proceed to another village. We again 



186 IN THE WAR 

drew a sigh of relief: thank God, we would be away 
from Sultanov! 

Next morning at daybreak we started. Our whole 
corps was being moved from the right flank to the 
centre. Along the roads the columns of infantry, the 
baggage-trains, the batteries and the parks moved in 
close masses. We kept stopping constantly. 

During one such stop, we fell in with a number of 
Chinamen who were tied to one another by their 
queues. About them marched armed soldiers in caps 
with white borders. They sat down on some hillocks 
to rest. 

"What kind of Chinamen are these.?" we asked the 
members of the convoy. 

^'Naturally, Hung-hu-tziis !" 

The Chinamen sat silently. At every motion their 
tied queues were stretched. One of them, a very 
young man, looked curiously aside; another drooped 
his lower lip; a third sat with an indifferent, con- 
centrated expression on his face. 

Two artillery men walked up to them. 

"Oh! Heap know you!" they exclaimed, nodding 
their heads to a grey-haired Chinaman. 

The Chinaman had a thin braid, and his sparse 
grey beard came to a point; his bleared, red-rimmed 
eyes were teary, and under his nose was a wet spot. 
He was squatting, showing his worn teeth and blink- 
ing in the sun. It looked as though he were smiling. 

"Do you know him?" I asked the artillerjrmen. 

"Certainly. He is from the village where we were 
located. They had orders to have the Chinese de- 
ported, but his old wife had just died. He stealthily 
came back with his two sons, in order to bury the 
old woman. We used to give him bread frequently." 

"They went out to catch him and his sons, and 
they found six others," one of the convoy said, with 
a sigh. "The captain told us to take them to the 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 137 

staff of the division, but where are we to find it? No- 
body knows where it is!" 

We arrived in the village of Su-ya-tun. It lay a 
quarter of a mile to the east of the station. As 
usual, it was half in ruin, but the Chinamen had 
not yet been deported. Beyond the low clay fences 
flat flails and heads with the black queues bound 
around could be seen : everywhere the Chinese were hur- 
riedly threshing the kao-liang and chumiz. 

We, the junior surgeons, succeeded in finding a 
small farmhouse which had been abandoned by the 
Chinese, where we took separate quarters. This was 
a great relief, not to be obliged to see eternally before 
our eyes the chief surgeon and the supervisor. 

Towards evening the band of Chinamen who were 
tied by their queues, entered the village from the east. 
About them marched armed soldiers, in caps with 
white borders. 

"Your Honor, can you not tell us where the staff 
of the division is.^"' 

"I do not know. Are you the men we talked with 
this morning beyond the railway .f"' 

The soldiers recognized me. 

"Just so, sir." 

"Have you been marching all this time?" 

*'Yes, sir, since ^ye in the morning. Nobody can 
tell us where to go!" 

The soldiers looked hungry, and their faces were 
worn and tense. The Chinese looked about them with 
indifference and equanimity : the closely-knotted queues 
did not allow them to turn their heads. In order 
to feel more comfortable they tried to stand with 
their backs against each other. 

We filled them all with bread and tea, and at dusk 
they trudged on, not knowing whither. 

Towards night it began to rain and it became very 
cold. We tried to make a fire in the khans, the broad 



138 IN THE WAR 

ovens which stretched along the walls of the house. 
The pungent smoke of the kao-liang stalks poured 
through the cracks of the oven, and through the oven 
doors. From the kettle which was fixed in the masonry 
of the vestibule, came strong charcoal vapors which 
mingled with the smoke. My head was aching. The 
rain whipped through the torn paper windows, pud- 
dles gathered on the dirty window-ledges, and the 
water ran down into the khans. In our room sat an 
officer of the Rifle Division, who had been overtaken 
by the night, and had lost himself in the storm. He 
drank tea with rum, and told us that the rumors of 
peace were unfounded, and that it had been decided 
to continue the fight. Now the severe winter was on, 
and the fur jackets had not yet been sent. The men 
of the Rifle Division were glad that they had at least 
received their cloaks back: in the summer the cloaks 
had been taken away from them on account of their 
heavy weight and the extreme heat. There were 
neither projectiles nor supplies in the Army. The 
Harbin supply of projectiles had all been exhausted, 
and the only reliance was on a new supply from Rus- 
sia. The country was deserted, the farmhouses in 
ruins. In a few months there would be neither build- 
ings, nor fuel, nor provender. The year 181S would 
be repeated, only we should be in the place of the 
French. 

The wind swept the rain through the torn paper 
windows, and the room was cold, damp, and smoky. 

The Chinamen stubbornly and concentratedly con- 
tinued to work on their deserted farms. They spoke 
flatteringly to us, telling us that "Russian captain 
heap shango," and "Russian soldier hung-hutz," 
showed us their looted farms, and went back to their 
work of threshing and winnowing. And all night long 
could be heard the noise of their flat flails. 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 139 

All about us, throughout the broad Mukden plain, 
in the fields and villages, organized, heartless looting 
was carried on on an enormous scale. In the fields 
there could be seen everywhere green rows of wagons, 
loading the sheaves of kao-liang and chumiz, and the 
loaded wagons moving in long files along the roads. 
At the commissariat there grew up gigantic moun- 
tains of kao-liang, chumiz, and rice straw, dozens of 
yards in length. I asked the officers and officials who 
watched the storing of the provender, whether they 
paid for the supplies that were being seized. 

Some answered evasively that, of course, they paid 
for them, if the master could be found, but that the 
greater part of the Chinese had run away. Besides, 
they said, all these Chinese were remarkable scoun- 
drels, for, to every mow and tree there appeared a 
dozen masters, and the prices asked for were ex- 
tortionate. 

Other officers and officials who were more frank, 
laughed slyly at my question, and replied: 

"Yes, we do pay, at the market price." 

"At the market price," was the common term in the 
Army with which to designate gratuitous acquisitions. 

Our baggage warrant officer, too, was constantly 
going off with from six to eight wagons, to look after 
the foraging. Near our baggage station, mows and 
ricks of forage grew up. Once our soldiers returned 
from the foraging disheartened and frightened, and 
they told us that Hung-hu-tziis had been shooting at 
them: they had driven into a village where there were 
no Russian troops, and, while the soldiers were load- 
ing chumiz straw, two shots were fired at them. Our 
soldiers informed some Cossacks who happened to pass 
by, and when these galloped into the village, the Chi- 
nese scattered and hid themselves. The Cossacks caught 
a boy, whom they beat with their knouts, to make 
him tell who had done the shooting; but they could 



140 IN THE WAR 

ii^t get anything out of him. The supervisor gave 
thV foraging soldiers some brandy. From that time 
on, they always carried rifles with them. 

In our village all kinds of strange soldiers, as 
ever, sneaked into the buildings, and carried off every- 
thing they could. They walked up to the working 
Chinamen, and in their presence filled buckets with 
the threshed and winnowed grain, and carried them 
off. The Chinamen moaned, moved their arms in 
despair, and ran with their complaints to the *'cap- 
tains" who happened to go by. Some "captains" were 
provoked, took away the grain from the soldiers, and 
threatened them with arrest. Others, with an indolent 
smile, gave the following advice to the looting sol- 
diers : 

"My good fellows, hit him in the mug, and then he'll 
keep quiet!" 

Half an hour later one could again see the flash 
of the flat flails in the air behind the low clay fences, 
and the heads of the yellow men, with their black 
queues bound around them, swayed in even motion. It 
was exasperating and incomprehensible to me that they 
continued to do so, and did not abandon it all. 

But did the higher authorities know nothing of what 
was taking place, and did they not take any measures 
against it.'' Not at all. They did take definite and 
precise measures. For example, in our village there 
was displayed on a clay wall a large-lettered announce- 
ment of the following content: 

"The Rear Division of the Army Corps. 

"An order to the troops of the Manchurian Army of 
October 17, 1904, .No. 34. 

"The destruction of buildings and the carrying-off 
of utensils is strictly forbidden. Those guilty of vio- 
lating this order, will be arrested and subjected to 
legal responsibility." 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER Ul 

The soldiers who passed by with their loot, loved 
to stop before this announcement, and, for practice 
in reading, scanned it very carefully. 

Kuropatkin himself used every effort to decrease 
the pillage, and he zealously issued paper after paper. 
However, he accused only the lower ranks of any 
wrong-doing. 

In an order of September 7, 1904 (No. 547) Kuro- 
patkin wrote as follows : 

"It has come to the ears of the Commander of the 
Army that during the Army's progress to the north 
there have begun to appear cases of violence and il- 
legal actions by the lower military ranks in relation 
to the inhabitants and their property, by which the 
population is provoked and the good relations between 
the inhabitants and the troops, which have been main- 
tained up to the present with much effort, are strained : 
the population is deserting the villages and scattering 
in the surrounding country. The Commander of the 
Army is immeasurably grieved at this information, 
which is intended to shake his previous calm convic- 
tion that the troops which are intrusted to his com- 
mand will, by their excellent and correct behavior, 
imperturbably and at all times maintain that excellent 
reputation which they have already established among 
all others." 

In an order of September 22, 1904 (No. 614) it was 
determined to recompense the inhabitants for the ruined 
fields and buildings at once, and, in case of the absence 
of the owners, to make protocols of the extent of 
damage done. 

An order of October 8, 1904 (No. 640) read: 

"The Commander of the Army is informed that the 
passing echelons, foragers, the property men, and de- 
tachments of the troops, while seizing forage and 
products from the inhabitants, either do not pay them 
at all, or give them extremely insufficient pay, and that 



142 IN THE WAR 

the rank and file take off their shoulder-straps in order 
not to be recognized. The Commander of the Army 
reiterates his former order to the chiefs of all degrees, 
to take the most energetic and active measures for the 
surveillance of the men and the maintenance in the 
Army of the strictest internal order." 

But the chiefs were not in any hurry to take "ener- 
getic and active measures." On February 2, 1905, the 
Commander-in-Chief wrote to General A. A. Bilderling> 
who was in temporary command of the Third Army 
(No. 1441): 

"In my orders and specific instructions I have re- 
peatedly directed the attention of the commanders 
to the necessity of instilling in the troops a strictly 
legal relation to the local population and their prop- 
erty. The good relation of the troops to the local 
population, which existed in the first part of the cam- 
paign, has, unfortunately, been considerably changed. 
In place of the regular requisitions with the precise 
accounting of the property seized for the purpose of 
immediate payment to the inhabitants, or, in case of 
their absence, to the Chinese administration, the troops 
act as robbers toward the property of the population, 
arbitrarily undertaking foraging expeditions, without 
the knowledge of the nearest authorities, and seizing 
products without any control whatsoever. A great 
quantity of the material seized is destroyed unpro- 
ductively, and the very settlements are in a few days 
turned into ruins. Under such conditions the country 
occupied by us not only gives us an insignificant 
proportion of what it might furnish if the business of 
exploitation were placed on any kind of a regular basis, 
but the relations of the local population toward us 
are becoming worse and worse." 

Such things took place on the spot, as described 
by Kuropatkin, and here is what the reporters told of 
it to the Russian public: 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 143 

*'They wire to the paper Russ as follows from Muk- 
den : The Russian authorities pay in full for the losses 
caused by the troops to the Chinese. The Russian 
government pays the Chinese absolutely for all the 
losses, averaging about forty-five rubles for a desyatin 
of provisions. We also pay for the damaged farm- 
houses and other buildings." (^RussMya Vyedomosti, 
1914, No. 288.) 

Upon reading such news, everybody here roared, 
and I, who am adicted to authorship, blush at the 
shamelessness of the Russian pens. 

I was very much interested to know about the rela- 
tions between the Chinese and Japanese. This was 
rather hard to find out, since hardly any of us had 
a chance to be in those localities which were occupied 
by the Japanese. But those who had been there, for 
example, those who had participated in Mishchenko's 
raid, told us as follows : "The Japanese treated merci- 
lessly those Chinese who interfered with their estab- 
lished orders, but they paid the usual average prices 
of peace times for all the provisions and provender 
which they had seized in the regular way of requisi- 
tion. The law was turned, but there was a law. The 
villages, of course with the exception of those in the 
positions, remained unharmed, and the temples were un- 
touched. The farmhouses were not looted and de- 
stroyed, and the Chinese remained living in them. 
With the Japanese there reigned a stern law; with 
us, unbridled anarchy, which debased all men, from the 
general to the common soldier. During the Mukden 
retreat, an intelligent Chinaman said to me: 

"Why do they beat you all the time? Because you 
came here, not to make war, but to plunder !" 

Our chief surgeon, the supervisor with his assistant, 
and the clerk, now sat for days at a time in the office. 
They counted their money, made a noise on the abacus. 



144 IN THE WAR 

and kept writing and signing their names. There 
was something wrong in the accounts, and it was im- 
possible to make them balance. 

Now and then the supervisor's assistant, David 
Solomonovich Bruk, and the clerk, Ivan Aleksandro- 
vich Bruk, came to see us. They were brothers, Jews, 
and both supernumerary officials. The younger, Ivan, 
was a very fine-looking and timid boy, who had been 
baptized into the Christian faith. He always lay 
down to sleep with a revolver by his side, was dread- 
fully afraid of Hung-hu-tziis, but, above all, was in ter- 
ror of getting into the line. 

"Don't you see.'' They are carrying on organized 
plundering with us," he told us, excitedly. "False 
accounts, stealing, forged notes! And, just think 
of it, they want to get rid of me! I am in charge 
of the office, and yet the chief surgeon invites the 
secretary of the nearest regiment to compose an ac- 
count of the foraging!" 

He sat there, pale, with rolling eyes, and with an 
expression of anger and dejection on his set face. 

"But let them try ! I have a little document against 
them! Davydov gave a Chinaman three rubles to sign 
his name to an account amounting to a hundred and 
eighty rubles, but he wrote in Chinese: *I received 
three rubles.' Another Chinaman translated it for me ! 
Just let them try! Only, don't you see, these scoun- 
drels will have me immediately transferred to the line, 
and they know that I am afraid of it !" 

From the positions arrived in our village for en- 
campment an infantry regiment, which had been in the 
war for a long time. The chief surgeon invited the 
regimental secretary to supper. He was a corpulent 
little official who looked as though he had been carved 
out of a piece of oak. He had risen to the rank of 
Titulary Councillor of Scribes. Our chief surgeon, who 
usually was very stingy, this time did not spare any 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 145 

money and lavishly treated his guest to wine and 
liqueurs. When under the influence of the liquor, the 
guest told how things were managed in his regiment, 
and he spoke frankly, with the condescending pride 
of a past master. 

"We have sold twenty-two of the best baggage 
horses, and we reported that five had run away and 
that seventeen had died from improper feeding. We 
said that no protocol had been taken. Signature of 
the regimental commander. By the way, we are ac- 
counting for the maintenance of eighteen non-existing 
steers." 

The chief surgeon cast a hostile glance at the super- 
visor. 

"Do you see?" he said, with a show of irritation. 
*'And our existing three steers have not even been en- 
tered as being on maintenance!" 

The secretary told many stories. The chief sur- 
geon and the supervisor listened eagerly to him, like 
students of a talented and magnetic teacher. After 
supper, the chief surgeon ordered the two Bruks to 
retire. He was left alone with the supervisor and his 
guest. 

The younger Bruk came to see us. He was de- 
jected and angry, and his face had a greyish-green 
tinge. 

"Let them send for me now, I will not go there 
for anything!" he repeated, meditatively rolling his 
eyes. 

He took a small lantern and went to the other end 
of the village, to make a call on the Sisters. 

"He is a fool!" Shantser said, laughingly. "He 
thinks that they are getting rid of him and are hiding 
from him, in order not to share with him. He does 
not consider that they won't share with him anyway — 
they are afraid of him, because he is a smarty ! They 
are trying to get rid of him because they don't want 



146 IN THE WAR 

him, because he does not understand anything in this 
serious matter." 

About two hours later the chief surgeon, the super- 
visor, and the guest left the surgeon's house, in order 
to take tea in the apartment of the managing per- 
sonnel, which was in the same farmhouse where we 
surgeons were living, and was separated from us by a 
vestibule. At tea the conversation was of a general 
nature. One could hear the loud, full voice of the 
supervisor and the hoarse and apparently suppressed 
voice of the chief surgeon. 

"Port Arthur will, in any case, hold out for another 
six months. The Sixteenth Corps will soon arrive; 
then, if God grants it, the Manchurian Army will go 
into action." 

We listened and smiled. Shantser merely expressed 
his aesthetic indignation. 

"What business have they, thieves that they are, 
to talk of the action of the Manchurian slywlJ? How 
can they speak of it and look each other in the eye.? 
I can't understand it. You see, Davydov sends his 
wife every month from fifteen hundred to two thou- 
sand rubles, whereas she knows that his salary amounts 
to only five hundred rubles. What will he tell her 
when she asks where he got that money? What will 
he do when his children will accidentally discover this ?" 

"You're silly!" Selyukov said, sighing, and started 
to undress himself. 

At one o'clock in the morning, when we had already 
retired, the elder Bruk, the supervisor's assistant, en- 
tered our room. Shantser was the only one who was 
still up, and he was writing letters. For an hour and 
a half, Bruk told Shantser about the conversations of 
the day, and they both laughed, restraining them- 
selves only enough not to awaken Selyukov and 
Grechikhin. 

**Do you understand.?" Bruk was saying. "I was 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 147 

present at a regular gathering of suspicious characters 
and rascals. Every one of their acts is punishable 
with a number of years in Siberia, and this secretary 
is an expert pickpocket and jiist see the airs he puts 
on! He is not a supernumerary such as we are, but 
a 'Titulary Councillor.' " 

"Ha,» ha, ha! Eighteen non-existing steers on 
maintenance 1" Shantser exclaimed, shaking with 
laughter. 

''Yesterday Davydov said to me: 'Did you hear 
about the hospitals which took our place at Mukden.'' 
During the engagement, ten thousand wounded passed 
through them. If we had been left at Mukden, we 
should now be rich men !' I said to him, 'Yes, we — you 
and I!"' 

Shantser roared. 

"Really, my good friend, why do you just stand 
and look on.^^ They are filling their pockets, and you 
just gape !" 

"Davydov said to me to-day : 'Things don't go right 
with us ! There is a deficiency everywhere ! How are 
we going to make the accounts balance ?^ " 

They both laughed and restrained each other in 
their outbursts with the words, "Hush, we'll wake 
them !" 

"Wifie said to me before leaving," Bruk said, in 
humorous meditation, " 'Dave, don't sign any forged 
checks! Don't be dragged into court! Just come 
home hale and hearty, and you will manage to earn 
a living !' " 

"You haven't made out any forged accounts yet.?" 

Bruk sighed, with a roguishly distressed expression 
on his face. 

"They compelled me to write out one! In Mukden 
there had been many rumors about the chief surgeon's 
oats. To close Sultanov's mouth, he sold him 300 
puds at one ruble forty, but he ordered me to write out 



148 IN THE WAR 

a bill at one ruble eighty kopeks. I refused to do so, 
but Davydov said to me: 'What difference does it 
make to you? Why should we not do a kindness to 
Sultanov?' Sultanov himself is a scoundrel of the 
first water. Our Division Staff was in great need of 
oats, and Sultanov sold back a hundred puds. 
'Davydov,' says he, "^you know, is a crafty business 
man. He has flayed me at the rate of one ruble eighty 
kopeks. Well, I will sell it to you at a loss. I will let 
you have it at one ruble sixty kopeks.' " 

"Well, sir, you've got your foot into a nice mess !" 
"But don't you see, I did not think that my brother 
was such a scoundrel. He is provoked at all this, only 
because he doesn't get his share of the profits!" 

Bruk looked solemn and gloomy. Shantser roared, 
again restraining himself so that he shouldn' t be 
heard. 

From the positions were heard continuous dis- 
charges of the guns. Sallies and night attacks took 
place, and now and then came the news that a new 
engagement was impending. The soldiers froze in the 
trenches. At night the thermometer went down to 
18 or 16 degrees and the puddles froze over. The 
fur jackets had not yet arrived, although, according 
to the order of the Commander-in-Chief, they were 
to have been furnished on October first. Over their 
overcoats the soldiers put on Chinese cotton cloaks of 
a light grey color. They presented a sorry and 
ludicrous appearance, and the Japanese railed at 
them from their trenches. The officers told enviously 
of the fine fur coats and jackets of the Japanese, 
and how warmly and practically the captives were 
dressed. 

Towards the end of October, the fur jackets at 
last arrived. The commissary officers were very proud 
because they were only a month late, for during the 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 149 

Turko-Russian War the fur coats did not get to the 
army before May.-*^ 

About five days after our arrival at Su-ya-tun, we 
were ordered to encamp. We pitched three hospital 
tents, but in them it was as cold as in an ice cellar, 
and the sick and wounded froze terribly. Again they 
tried to fix up some farmhouses. 

But few wounded were brought in. They were 
mostly sick men who came. They arrived with badly- 
neglected cases of rheumatism, bronchitis, and dysen- 
tery. Their legs were all swollen from long and con- 
stant sitting in the trenches. The sick were sent to 
the hospitals with great reluctance. The soldiers said 
that every one of them was suffering from diarrhoea, 
from rheumatism of the joints, and from constant 
coughing. If they asked to be sent to a hospital, the 
regimental surgeon would say : ''You are only pretend- 
ing. You simply want to get away from the posi- 
tion." They transported them to the hospitals only 
when they had to be carried on stretchers. 

One evening an infantry regiment arrived from the 
positions at our village, in order to take a rest. The 
sun had set, the west was of a bright orange color, 
and darkness was already descending on the damp 
earth. Rows of black figures in bushy fur caps, with 
the sharp bayonet points, appeared on the low hill, 
stood out in bold outline against the evening glow, and 
descended and disappeared in the darkness. Above 
the black horizon moved only the black fur caps and 

* However, as later appeared, there was no particular reason 
to express any pride, for the great majority of the fur jackets 
did not even reach the army in May, but only a year after the 
conclusion of peace. Tliis is what the Novoe Vremya wrote in 
November, 1906: "Of late there have been arriving at Harbin 
not only separate cars, but even whole trains, of the com- 
missariat, carrying chiefly warm clothing. These cargoes had 
been despatched from Russia to the active Army during its 
position on the Sha-ho, but they had been sidetracked somewhere 
until now." 



150 IN THE WAR 

the pointed forest of bayonets. The soldiers walked 
with a strange, tottering gait, and continuous cough- 
ing hovered over the regiment. It was an uninter- 
rupted, dry hacking, such as I had never heard be- 
fore. It was clear to me that all these soldiers, every 
one of them, ought to be sent to a hospital. If they 
were sent on, sick as they were, only a few would 
survive. There they let them sit diseased in the 
trenches, let them freeze and shiver, as long as they 
could hold out, and then they were sent away crippled 
for life. This was a disagreeable but iron logic: if 
men are thrown under a storm of piercing bullets and 
under shells which tear the body to pieces, why should 
one stop before a permanently disabling disease? 
There is only one consideration, and that is whether 
a jnan is still good for action. The rest is a matter 
of indifference. 

By degrees an entirely new relation arose between 
the surgeon and the patient. The surgeon blended 
with the whole, ceased to be a surgeon, and began to 
look at the patient from the standpoint of his further 
usefulness for action. A slippery road! And from 
this road the medical conscience fell into the abyss of 
brazen police persecution and amazing heartlessness. 

The Army began to be swamped with soldiers or- 
dered back from the hospitals, who were totally un- 
fit for service. They transferred to the line soldiers 
who could barely move their legs after severe cases of 
typhoid fever ; they transferred cripples, men who were 
barely able to breathe, whose breasts had been pierced 
by bullets, who could not raise their wounded arms 
to the level of their shoulders. At last, even the mili- 
tary authorities became aware of the fact. In De- 
cember the Military Medical Field Department was 
obliged to issue a circular (No. 9060) of the follow- 
ing contents: *'It has come to the notice of the Com- 
mander-in-Chief that the Army is, to a great extent, 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 151 

being replenished from the hospitals by the rank and 
file, who are either totally unfit for service, or who 
have not yet recovered from diseases." In view of this, 
the military institutions were asked to be more care- 
ful in discharging the patients. 

It had come to the notice of the Commander-in- 
Chief. But why did it not come to the notice of 
the military medical authorities.'^ Why did it not 
come to the notice of the surgeons themselves? It 
became necessary for the military generals to teach 
the surgeons how to be more attentive to the patients ! 

In our ofiice heavy work was being handled from 
morning until night, under the guidance of the regi- 
mental secretary. They made up accounts and manu- 
factured auditing sheets. If they could not find a 
Chinaman to sign a bill, they had the senior scribe do 
so. He copied a few Chinese letters from the long red 
strips which abundantly adorned the walls of any 
Chinese farmhouse. 

The supervisor was getting nervous. He fell to 
musing. He frequently lost the thread of his con- 
versation, and tried to make it appear that he rarely 
entered the office. 

"He acts like a maiden that has just fallen," Sel- 
yukov explained. "On the one hand, she is happy, and 
she will go to-morrow to a secret meeting; on the other 
hand, she feels uncomfortable and is afraid of the 
consequences." 

The younger Bruk was gloomy, irritable, and angry 
at the chief surgeon and the supervisor. He made 
constant attempts to let them know that "he knew 
about their tricks." On entering into a book a false 
account, Bruk suddenly exclaimed: 

"This account has been signed by our senior scribe !" 

The chief surgeon calmly took the account in his 
hands and examined it. 



15^ IN THE WAR 

"Has it? How artistically he has made the sig- 
nature! Just like a Chinaman!" 

In the evening, as Bruk was lying in his bed near 
the supervisor, he said: 

''The chief surgeon assures us that he has no eco- 
nomic funds whatsoever in the hospital. But why 
does he not have them? The other day he put two 
thousand rubles into his pocket !" 

"What!" the supervisor rolled his eyes in surprise, 
and sat up in his bed. "But how do you know? Such 
accusation may be uttered only if one has the proofs. 
To-morrow I shall ask Grigori Yakovlevich whether 
or not that is true." 

Bruk's heart sank into his boots. He grew pale 
and began to explain that possibly it only seemed 
so to him. 

Towards the end of October we received the order 
to break camp and move about eight versts to the east, 
to the village of Mi-zan-tun. We abandoned the farm- 
houses which had been fixed up for the patients and 
the dugouts which the soldiers had made for them- 
selves, and transferred ourselves to Mi-zan-tun. It 
was now quite. out of the question to keep the patients 
in tents, because it was late in the autumn and very 
cold. We started to fix up the farmhouses, and the 
soldiers were making dugouts, when a new order came 
to move to the village of West Chen-hou-zu, some four 
versts to the northwest. Again we abandoned every- 
thing and moved on. The soldiers were furious and 
they said in irritation: 

"There is no luck in our work !" 

Formerly they had worked with a vim and pleasure. 
Now they dug, chopped, and plastered lazily and 
dreamily, for they were absolutely convinced of the 
uselessness of their work. 

In war time two movable field hospitals are attached 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 153 

to every division. They are supposed to do the work 
of the whole division, and to follow it everywhere. Our 
army stood near Mukden from August to February, 
but the separate military units had constantly been 
moved and transferred to other places. With them 
went the hospitals. We changed places, again fixed 
up the farmhouses for the patients, and finally en- 
camped. 

A new order — to break camp again, and to fol- 
low the unit once more. We did not have a mov- 
able field hospital, — there was, as the surgeons wittily 
remarked, something that belonged to the field and 
was movable. The institution was, unquestionably, a 
field institution, and it was movable — indeed, it was too 
movable — only it was not a hospital. It flopped about 
behind the division, uselessly and senselessly, carrying 
out its purposeless paper mission. 

The Army all the time remained in one place. It 
would seem that there was no reason to move the count- 
less field hospitals back of the units, up and down 
the front. What kept them from being stationed im- 
movably in certain places .f* What difference did it 
make whether a sick soldier of one Russian army got 
to his hospital or to the hospital of another division? 
Besides, if the hospital remained in one place, it could 
arrange many spacious and warm buildings for the 
sick, with isolation tents for the contagious patients, 
with baths, and with a proper kitchen. 

In that great complex business which was being 
done around us, the thing which was most needed was 
a living elasticity of organization, and ability and 
desire to adapt the given forms to every content; but 
the enormous, arbitrary paper monster enmeshed the 
whole army with its dry tentacles, and the men crept 
amidst them in cautious, timid zigzags, and did not 
think of business, but of how they could escape get- 
ting in the way of these tentacles. 



154 IN THE WAR 

We took up our position in West Chen-hou-zu. In 
the village the usual plundering of the Chinese wa^ 
taking place. Two artillery parks were stationed 
here. Conflicts took place between the hospital and 
the parks. The artillerymen were taking a thatch off! 
a roof. In the yard some rafters were sticking out of 
heaps of straw. Our chief surgeon or supervisor made 
his appearance. 

"How dare you destroy the farmhouses? Do you 
not know the order of the Commander-in-Chief.? I will 
have you turned over to the court-martial!" 

The artillerymen disappeared, and our soldiers were 
ordered to pick up the beams and carry them to the 
hospital. The officers of the artillery parks did pre- 
cisely the same with our soldiers. 

The frosts were increasing in intensity. Occasion- 
ally snow fell. In Mukden a cubic sazhen (about two 
and two-thirds cords) of wood cost from seventy to 
eighty rubles, and soon went up to a hundred rubles. 
The destruction of the farmhouses assumed grand pro- 
portions. Whole villages presented nothing but heaps 
of half-destroyed clay walls. Everybody thought of 
himself only. If a military unit occupied ten houses 
in a village, it consumed all the rest for fuel. Upon 
leaving a village, it destroyed the last farmhouses and 
carried off^ all the wooden parts. And the stern Man- 
churian winter was still ahead of us. 

The trees in the cemeteries were cut down. Every 
Chinese family has in its field its separate, inalienable 
family cemetery : in a small, square plot widely branch- 
ing black poplars lean over a mass of conical hillocks 
crowded close together. This is a holy of holies for 
every Chinaman, an inviolable, quiet "blessed field." 
In the books about China we read: "A Chinaman 
through whose guilt foreigners are enabled to enter 
the holy enclosure of this field is considered a sac- 
rilegist. A member of the family through whose guilt 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 155 

the family loses this plot is under a curse and his 
name is stricken from the family book." 

A Chinaman is attached with his whole heart to this 
most sacred place, to "the field of his ancestors," which 
lies in the midst of his land. When we were stationed 
at Mi-zan-tun, an order was received for the deporta- 
tion of all the Chinese from the village. The deporta- 
tion was carried on with customary cruelty and heart- 
lessness. The inhabitants were given two hours in 
which to get ready. The Cossacks, with knouts in 
their hands, hurried them in their packing, and the 
Chinese hastily stuck into their baskets whatever they 
could lay their hands on. 

"That will do! Move on!" and the Cossacks took 
them by the back of the neck and put them out of their 
houses. 

All were deported. Immediately a few old men re- 
turned. They were again deported. They returned 
once more, and all died on the graves of their ancestors. 
One old man had been observed by the officers wander- 
ing for a long time over his cemetery. They paid no 
attention to him. He lived in the field in a miserable 
kao-liang shack, fed on beans, and drank water from 
a puddle. After a very cold night, he was found 
frozen stiff in his cemetery. 

In these quiet "blessed fields" one could now hear 
the noise of Russian axes everywhere, and the tall trees 
fell creaking to the ground. The whole broad Mukden 
plain was devastated before our eyes and turned into 
a barren desert. When we arrived there it was a 
flourishing country. Everywhere happy villages were 
hidden in verdure, and everywhere could be seen the 
darkling cemetery groves. Now there were no trees, 
and only stumps stood out. The clay ruins of the vil- 
lages looked gloomy and desolate. Enormous packs of 
homeless dogs, maddened from hunger, raced over the 
fields. At night the soldiers had to defend them- 



156 IN THE WAR 

selves against them with their rifles. The dogs fought 
one another, and tore up and devoured their com- 
panions. In the positions they ate the corpses, at- 
tacked the wounded that had not been picked up, and 
in the rear gnawed the skeletons of the Chinese dead. 

The Chinese coffins are not placed in the ground: 
they are simply put on the ground and covered up with 
conical hillocks of earth. The coffins are large and 
strong, being constructed from thick planks. The 
soldiers opened the graves and carried away the lids 
and walls of the coffins for fuel and left the skeletons 
unburied. And the dogs gnawed at them. From 
the open graves grinned the yellowed, eyeless skulls 
from which the queues had rotted away, and the clutch- 
ing dark fingers stuck out from the decomposed, broad 
blue sleeves. 

Yes, everything was done by Christian Russia to 
crush the well-being and the very soul of the quiet, 
peaceful local peasantry. The desecrated temples, the 
profaned cemeteries — heartlessness and indifference 
for everything! It was as though a thick poisonous 
mist, full of beastly savagery and of terrible neglect 
for man, was slowly descending upon the Manchurian 
plains. Over there in distant Russia they were singing 
hymns to the new Christ warriors in their great strug- 
gle with paganism, while here the intelligent Chinese 
stood in absolute perplexity before what was taking 
place. They said: 

"We understand that war is war, but we do not un- 
derstand why you must pollute the graves of our 
fathers and revile our gods.' 



?? 



The Corps Controller with his assistants arrived at 
our hospital and began the work of revision. 

From early in the morning until late at night they 
sat in the office with the chief surgeon and the super- 
visor. The abacuses clicked, and one could hear the 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 157 

words: "from the advance sum"; "to the account of 
economic sum" ; "the provision list" ; "the soldiers' 
mess." They compared the documents, audited them, 
and saw to it that there was not a kopek's worth of 
mistake. The chief surgeon and the supervisor gave 
business-like explanations. Everything balanced cor- 
rectly and accurately. 

Everybody in the Army knew well that the prov- 
ender, the fuel, and many other things, were collected 
by the Army units on the spot, gratis, and that in 
Mukden the Chinese shops quite openly handled forged 
Chinese notes, certifying to the receipt of any sum 
desired. And yet, the controllers conscientiously ex- 
amined every Chinese account, carefully added the 
sums, in order to see whether they agreed with the 
sums indicated in the forged accounts. There could be 
but one purpose of such a control, and that was to 
train the Army in precise rascality. For hours at a 
time men sat with serious, business-like look and clicked 
the abacus, while above them the countenanceless paper 
god flitted on his dry wings and nodded to them with 
the gentle appearance of an accomplice. 

The controllers went away. The chief surgeon and 
the supervisor strutted about in contentment and sat- 
isfaction. The younger Bruk was green with envy and 
was getting thin and sickly. 

It was fun to watch this young man. In order to 
have a corner of our own, we physicians were obliged 
to settle at the other end of the village. It was a long 
distance to the main office, and the surgeon of the 
day passed all his time in the office where Ivan Bruk 
was stationed. There was plenty of opportunity to 
observe him. 

Tall and good-looking, conscious of his prepossess- 
ing appearance, he readily told how he had married 
an oldish daughter of a Councillor of State, and how 
lie had for that purpose turned Christian, 



158 IN THE WAR 

"Just imagine!" he said, reproachfully; '*my eldest 
brother has for this broken off all communication with 
me! But why? Have I not improved my condition? 
They gave me as a dowry a little house — you ought 
to see the fine garden attached to it, and the fruit in 
the garden ! They got me a j ob in a bank, where I get 
eighty rubles salary!" 

He showed us all the forged documents and told us 
of the scoundrelly transactions of the chief surgeon. 

"Here is a little document which Davydov has lately 
brought from Mukden. Look at it!" 

On fine Chinese paper it said : "For a steer, received 
in full, eighty-five rubles," and then followed a Chinese 
signature. 

"Well, eighty-five rubles is fair enough !" I remarked. 

Bruk's eyes glistened merrily and slyly. 

"Yes, only there was no steer in the transaction. 
It's the same steer that was bought before! At first, 
we entered him as for the maintenance of the detach- 
ment, and now we've carried him over as for the main- 
tenance of the patients !" 

Bruk's face beamed with joy, but suddenly his eyes 
grew dim, and he looked malicious. 

"But do you understand what kind of rascals they 
are? I know all their tricks, and I don't get anything 
for it ! You remember, at Su-ya-tun we frequently saw 
the Regimental Secretary: the Manager of the House- 
hold Division pays him a hundred rubles a month for 
keeping quiet, and he has other incomes beside !" 

"Ivan, stop!" his brother David said, in annoyance. 

"But I will take what belongs to me! And don't 
let them forget that! I have hinted to the chief sur- 
geon that I am on to his tricks. I purposely borrowed 
of him fifty rubles which I shall not return, and I have 
let him know that I do not consider myself his debtor." 

"What a rascal !" David remarked. 

"Who? I?" Ivan asked, in surprise, 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 159 

David sighed. 

"Yes, you, among others !" 

"But understand! I enter all their forged accounts 
in the books, and they don't share with me !" 

Ivan fell to musing. 

"Yes, if they had fixed matters differently, I would 
come back from the war a rich man!" 

A plan was slowly maturing in his head. 

*'Do you know, I think the chief surgeon is em- 
barrassed and does not know in what form to offer 
me the money," he hazarded. "I'll have a talk with 
him in a day or two." 

At last the plan materialized. One evening Bruk 
sent a soldier clerk with a letter of the following con- 
tent to the chief surgeon: 

^'Honored Grigori Yakovlevich, you can't help know- 
ing that you are earning money partly due to my aid, 
and I would be very much obliged to you if you would 
share with me at least part of the profits." 

Bruk, with foresight, inclosed an empty envelope 
in the letter. "Maybe Davydov will not have an 
envelope handy," he said. The soldier took the letter 
to the chief surgeon, but the latter said that there 
would be no answer. 

Bruk waited in the office for two hours, and then 
went to see Davydov. The Sisters and the supervisor 
were with him. The chief surgeon jested with the Sis- 
ters and laughed, and paid no attention to Bruk. The 
letter, torn to shreds, was lying on the floor. Bruk 
remained there for a while, picked up the bits of his 
letter, and went away. 

Next day the chief surgeon did not appear in the 
office, nor did he show up for two or three days. Bruk 
gave us all the details of the story, and was agitated 
and expectant. 

"I am awfully afraid that he will suddenly transfer 
me to the line!" 



160 IN THE WAR 

"But, my dear man, you are trying to get there as 
fast as you can," Shantser said, laughing. 

Bruk's eyes rolled, and on his pale lips flashed a 
sly smile. 

"Then I will inform on all of them !" he burst out. 

The elder Bruk, who had been sent on business to 
Harbin, returned. The chief surgeon sent for him, and 
told him about the letter which his brother had written, 
and said: 

"I tore up that letter out of pity for you. This boy 
does not understand what might have happened to 
him for such a letter. Talk with him and make it clear 
to him. As to the profits, it is true I do not show a 
part of the sums in the accounts, but hold it back in 
case there should be a deficit. You know how muddled 
and complex the military laws are, and how the con- 
trol may any minute find this or that expenditure ille- 
gal, and then I shall be responsible for the sum. But 
if there should be no deficit, and all should end well, I 
would, after the war, divide up these sums with every- 
body." 

David Bruk intended to have a talk with his brother 
in the evening, but after dinner Ivan went off with the 
chief surgeon to the corps treasury. David was dread- 
fully agitated, for fear that Ivan might on his way 
mention the question of the sharing of the profits to 
the chief surgeon. 

Ivan returned late in the evening. 

"Do you know, I have had a talk with the chief 
surgeon on my way down," he explained to his brother. 

David raised his arms in horror. 

"You are a fool, that's what you are !" 

"Not at all a fool," Ivan calmly replied. "Rest 
assured that I know him better than you. At Christ- 
mas I am to be rewarded for my earnest labor in the 
office by a monthly increase of twenty-five rubles, and 
besides, he has given me to understand that the fifty 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 161 

rubles which I had borrowed from him he considers 
to be mine." 

On our way to Manchuria, and here in Manchuria 
itself, one circumstance in particular surprised us. The 
Army suffered a great lack of a personnel in officers. 
The wounded officers were returned to the line before 
they were barely well again. The commissions of dis- 
charge, according to superior orders, became stricter 
from month to month, and the officers were freed with 
increasing difficulty. The officers of the hne, those who 
were ailing and frequently those who were quite ill, 
constantly turned to us for medical advice. Of those 
who had arrived here in the beginning of the war, many 
were so worn out that they awaited wounds and death 
as a delivery. 

At the same time a mass of healthy, robust officers 
occupied secure and peaceful offices in the rear of the 
Army. The most astounding thing was that the offi- 
cers in these rear positions received better pay than 
those in the line. They filled the offices of the com- 
missariat, were supervisors of hospitals and lazarettos, 
and commanders of stations, etapes, and sanitary 
trains, and were in charge of all kinds of stores, trans- 
ports, baggage-trains, and bakeries. Here, where their 
work could easily have been done by officials, it was 
considered necessary to maintain the complex of offi- 
cers, whereas in the engagements, the command of 
companies was in the hands of supernumerary ensigns, 
that is, of non-commissioned officers, who had been 
advanced to the position of commissioned officers only 
for the time being. It looked as though the special 
military education of the officers were not considered 
necessary for battle. The companies went into action 
with a civilized, educated enemy under the guidance 
of non-commissioned officers, while the real officers, 
who had been specially trained for war, in the bloom 



162 IN THE WAR 

of health, were counting hospital cloaks and selling 
sweetmeats and pastry in the cars of the Economic 
Societies for Officers. 

Once the Commander of our Division visited our hos- 
pital. He examined the apartments, then he went to 
have tea with the chief surgeon. 

"Yes, heutenant," the general said, turning to the 
supervisor, "you will be transferred to the line. The 
Commander-in-Chief has ordered to have the officers of 
the line who are recovering from wounds sent to the 
quiet rear positions, and the fit officers to be trans- 
ferred to the line. You may choose whichever regi- 
ment you wish to be transferred to." 

The supervisor turned white as a sheet and his 
knees trembled. He shrunk and stooped. 

"Yes, sir," he replied in a faint voice. 

"Your Excellency, he is not fit for the line," the 
chief surgeon ventured to remark. "He is no good as 
an officer, has completely forgotten line duty, and, 
besides, he is a terrible coward — whereas he is a splen- 
did supervisor. I assure you that in the line he will 
do only harm." 

The general cast a stealthy look through his glasses 
at the supervisor, and his eyes betrayed a sarcastic 
smile: the supervisor was all curled up, his glance was 
fixed, and, apparently, he was not in the least offended 
by the reference to his cowardice. 

"An officer cannot be a coward," the general said, 
abruptly, "and I cannot interfere with the order 
which the Commander-in-Chief has given. Think it 
over, and let the staff know which regiment you have 
chosen." 

"Yes, sir," the supervisor replied again. 

The general drove away. 

The supervisor was a changed man. Formerly self- 
satisfied, arrogant, and jolly, he now sat in silence and 
concentrated thought. Whenever the warrant officer 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 163 

came for orders, the supervisor waved his hand and 
replied : 

"Do as you please!'' 

He called on the Sisters and embarrassed them by 
sitting for hours at a time on the warm khan. He 
squatted in Turkish fashion, and his pudgy figure re- 
mained motionless. If he had anything to say, it 
would be something like this : 

"When I am wounded and they bring me to your 
hospital . . ." 

He now walked with a pronounced stoop, and, like 
a paralytic old man, shuffled his big feet in their felt 
boots. 

The order of the Commander-in-Chief was also is- 
sued to the other institutions. Unrest and gloom en- 
tered everywhere. 

The chief surgeon passed all the days travelling up 
and down making frantic efforts to save the super- 
visor. Formerly Davydov had constantly expressed 
his dissatisfaction with the supervisor's indolence and 
lack of business sense. And even now, he referred to 
him in such words as: "What is this log good for in 
the line.? He is of no use even here as a supervisor." 
None the less, he continued his pleas in his behalf: 
"Just out of the goodness of my heart — I am sorry 
for the fellow," Davydov himself explained. But every- 
body around knew clearly the cause of his kindness. 
The supervisor was inactive and indolent, and this was 
an advantage to the sly and active chief surgeon, be- 
cause he could take the whole management into his 
own hands. Again, the supervisor was obviously an 
"honest" man, that is, he did not put anything into 
his pocket and pretended not to see the chief sur- 
geon's rascality, consequently it was not necessary 
to share profits with him. He was just the man the 
chief surgeon wanted. 

Days passed. It so happened that the supervisor's 



164 IN THE WAR 

transfer to the regiment was delayed. Some kind of 
obstacle was met, and it appeared that the matter 
could be settled only a month later. A month later 
they forgot all about it. The supervisor remained 
in the hospital, and the wounded officer who had been 
appointed to his place again returned to the line. 

Just as imperceptibly, quite accidentally, in conse- 
quence of an unforeseen concurrence of circumstances, 
all affairs arranged themselves. Everybody remained 
in his place — for everybody it appeared possible to 
make an exception from the rule. The only one who 
found his way to the line was the supervisor of Sul- 
tanov's hospital. Of course, it would not have been 
much work for Sultanov to have kept him, but Sul- 
tanov was not in the habit of interceding for others, 
and he had influential connections so high up that no 
other supervisor was either terrible or inconvenient 
for him. 

So, once more, in the etapes, at the stations, in the 
lazarettos and baggage-trains, everywhere were to be 
seen those robust, well-fed officers. The order of the 
Commander-in-Chief, just like all his other orders, 
flapped in the air for a while like a useless scrap of 
paper, frightening simpletons, and then it disappeared 
under the cloth. 

To our hospital there came sick men, with now and 
then a few wounded. Were they to be treated on the 
spot, or to be transported to the rear? This was a 
very complex question, with which the authorities were 
quite unable to cope. If the surgeon of the corps 
arrived and learned that we transferred the patients, 
he scolded us : "You have a hospital, and you turn 
it into a station of etapes. What are your surgeons. 
Sisters, and drug-stores for.''" If the commander of 
the sanitary division, Trepov, came and learned that 
the patients lay there for five or six days, he scolded 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 165 

us: "Why do the patients lie here so long? Why 
do you not transfer them?" He was simply mad on 
the question of evacuation. 

General Trepov was the Chief Commander of the 
whole Sanitary Division of the Army. No one would 
have been able to say what qualifications he possessed 
for the management of this responsible position. He 
had been either a senator or a governor before he 
dropped into the position of commander of the sani- 
tary division, and was distinguished chiefly for his 
amazing lack of business sense; while in matters of 
medicine he was a downright ignoramus. None the 
less, the general interfered in purely medical ques- 
tions, and lavishly scattered reprimands among physi- 
cians for causes in regard to which he was totally 
incompetent to judge. 

Once, in inspecting our hospital, his attention 
rested on a patient who was lying in the ward for 
chronics. 

"What is his ailment?" 

"Syphilis." 

"What? You place a syphilitic in the common 
ward ?" 

"Your Excellency, he has it in the tertiary stage, 
it is not contagious, and we have no separate syphilitic 
ward. He was placed here to-day, and to-morrow we 
shall transfer him." 

"That makes no difference! The idea of placing a 
syphilitic together with other patients ! Let that never 
happen again!" 

At another time, again in the chronic ward, Trepov 
saw a soldier with chronic eczema on his face. The 
patient presented a terrifying appearance, a red, 
bloated face, with a scaly skin, covered with yellow 
scabs. The general was beside himself and sternly 
asked the chief surgeon why such a patient was not 
isolated,, The chief surgeon respectfully explained 



166 IN THE WAR 

that the disease was not contagious. The general grew 
silent and walked on. As he left, he thanked the chief 
surgeon for the good order in the hospital. 

After every visit of the higher authorities, the rep- 
resentative of the military institution is obliged to 
inform his immediate superiors of the inspection that 
has taken place, with a statement of all remarks, ap- 
provals, and reprimands, made by the inspecting 
authorities. The chief surgeon telegraphed to the 
Surgeon of the Corps that the Commander of the Sani- 
tary Division had visited the hospital, and had been 
satisfied with the order observed. The next day the 
Surgeon of the Corps came galloping up, and he repri- 
manded the chief surgeon: 

"You wired me that Trepov found everything in 
order, whereas Trepov came to see me and informed 
me that he had reprimanded you for keeping con- 
tagious patients together with the non-contagious pa- 
tients." 

The chief surgeon shrugged his shoulders in per- 
plexity, and explained the matter to the Surgeon of 
the Corps, saying that he did not consider General 
Trepov competent enough to reprimand the surgeons 
in the field of medicine, and that he had not wired about 
the reprimand from a sense of delicacy, since he did 
not wish in an ofl[icial paper to put the Commander of 
the Sanitary Division in a ludicrous situation. All 
that was left for the Surgeon of the Corps to do was to 
change the subject of conversation. 

To be a mere surgeon's assistant or a Sister of 
Mercy, to execute mere administrative duties in mat- 
ters of medicine, special training was required ; where- 
as no special information whatsoever was required 
from a person in order to carry out the most important 
and responsible medical functions in an army of half 
a million men. All that was necessary was to have 
the corresponding rank. Here is a document, and I 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 167 

assure the reader in all seriousness that it is not taken 
from a comic paper, but that it was given in an ap- 
pendix to an Order of the Commander-in-Chief of No- 
vember 18, 1904, under No. 130. 

"The Personnel of the Management of the Chief Com- 
mander of the Sanitary Division under the Com- 
mander-in-Chief : 

"Chief Commander of the Sanitary Division (a Lieu- 
tenant-General) — 1. General for special orders (Ma- 
jor-General) — 1. Personnel of the management: 
Commander of the Hospital Division (may be a sur- 
geon) — 1. Chief of the Evacuating Division (may be 
a surgeon) — 1. For special orders: staff officers — 2, 
surgeons — 3. 

"Sanitaro-Statistical Bureau: In charge of the 
bureau, a Colonel, may be a Major-General (may be 
a surgeon) — 1. Assistant surgeons — 2. 

"Office of the Chief Field Militaro-Medical In- 
spector: Chief Field Militaro-Medical Inspector — 1. 
Chief Field Surgeon — 1. Manager of the office (a sur- 
geon) — 1. Officers for special orders: Surgeons of 
the third medical order — 2, of the fourth order — 2. 

"Chief Field Evacuating Commission of the Army: 
Chairman of the Commission, a Major-General (may 
be a Colonel) — 1. Chairman's assistants — 2. Chief 
Surgeon of Commission — 1. For special orders: su- 
perior officers — 6, surgeons — 10.' 



5> 



The medico-sanitary affairs of the army with the 
Japanese were in charge of well-known professors of 
medicine. With us, as may be seen from the document 
quoted, not a single responsible position, except that 
of Militaro-Medical Inspector, was entrusted to a sur- 
geon. Examine the first part of the document, in 
which the personnel of the central militaro-sanitary 
management of the whole Army is determined: a lieu- 



168 IN THE WAR 

tenant-general, a major-general. In the secondary 
positions there may he surgeons, but may also be col- 
onels. Only three positions are definitely in the hands 
of surgeons, and those are for special orders. 

The whole document strictly follows the same style. 
Here and there there is a condescending remark in 
regard to the secondary positions: fnay he a surgeon; 
but in general the surgeons are entrusted only with 
the lowest, purely executive duties, such as manage- 
ment of offices, "for special orders," and so forth. 
There is only one exception which mars the style: in 
regard to the chief field surgeon, it does not say that 
he may he a surgeon. Why.? If the commander of 
the sanitary division could be a former governor, and 
the inspector of hospitals an ex-chief of police, why 
could not the chief field surgeon be, for example, an 
ex-captain of police? 

But all this is too sad to be laughable. If only, 
by the side of ignorant generals and lieutenants, the 
parts of their assistants had been entrusted to tal- 
ented, well-trained physicians ! There was nothing of 
the kind. In the management of the army we do not 
find a single surgeon who passed as an authority in 
scientific or moral matters. Mediocre surgeons with 
paper souls of officials, who had passed through a 
course of military drill until they had completely lost 
their personalities, presided everywhere. To expect 
of them a show of genius, independent creative power, 
warm love for their work, would be the same as look- 
ing for warm blood and living nerves in reams of offi- 
cial documents. The reader has seen already in part 
and will soon see in full what the military carriers of 
the highest medical offices. General Trepov, Ezerski, 
Chetyrkin, and so forth, represented in their persons. 

The long sufi^ering Russian Army bore the conse- 
quences of such a composition of the highest medical 
management. In the first engagement, near Tu-ren- 



OCTOBER TO NQVEMBER 169 

chen, the wounded walked and crawled helplessly for 
dozens of versts, while hundreds of surgeons and doz- 
ens of hospitals had nothing to do. The same thing 
was repeated in all the following engagments, inclusive 
of the great Mukden Battle. An enormous reserve of 
military forces, totally untouched, appeared each time, 
with fateful regularity, and the business of attending 
to the wounded was so arranged as though our whole 
Army were provided only Y^ith a few dozens of sur- 
geons. 

Our superiors produced a staggering impression on 
an unspoiled soul. I would not have undertaken to rep- 
resent them in the form of belles-lettres.. No matter 
how I might soften actuality, how I might dampen the 
colors, the reader would say that this is a malicious 
charge, an overdrawn caricature, and that such men 
could not exist at the present time. 

Indeed, we surgeons of the reserve ourselves thought 
that such men, especially among surgeons, had long 
ceased to exist. We looked in amazement at our su- 
periors, "the senior comrades," who ordered us about. 
It was as though there arose from grey antiquity dim, 
hazy phantoms with haughty, dispassionate faces, with 
goose quills behind their ears, with ink-stand thoughts 
and paper souls. Before us were materialized the mon- 
strous sketches from "The Revizor," "Dead Souls," 
and "Provincial Sketches." 

The subordinates were not supposed to have an 
opinion of their own, even in purely medical matters. 
We were not permitted to contradict a diagnosis made 
by the authorities, no matter how superficial or pur- 
posely dishonest such a diagnosis might be. The In- 
spector of the Third Army made the rounds of the 
hospital in my presence. He took the card of one 
patient and saw upon it the diagnosis — "typhoid 
fever." He walked up to the patient and, without 



170 IN THE WAR 

removing his shirt, poked him under the left ribs, and 
pronounced : 

"This is not typhoid fever, but influenza!" 

He ordered the diagnosis to be changed at once. 
The Militaro-Medical Inspector of the Rear, upon vis- 
itmg the hospitals under his charge, invariably frowned 
when he heard the diagnosis of "typhoid fever" from 
the orderly, and asked: 

"What do you consider to be the symptoms of ty- 
phoid fever?" 

One of the surgeons answered: 

"Your Excellency, I have already passed my ex- 
amination, and I am under no obligation to pass it a 
second time !" 

For his impudence, the surgeon was transferred to 
the regiment. Dr. M. L.t Kheysin tells in God^s 
World (1906, No. 6) of an incident which, to a physi- 
cian who has been in the war, does not sound like an 
anecdote, but like a most probable fact, arising from 
the very essence of conditions prevailing there. In- 
spector v., making the rounds of a hospital, asked 
the orderly: 

"Has the patient's spleen increased in size?" 

"As you please, Your Excellency," replied the clever 
orderly. 

The coarseness and ignorance of the militaro-medi- 
cal authorities surpassed all bounds. It is sad, but it 
is true: the military generals, in their relations with 
their subordinates, were, for the most part, coarse and 
common, but, in comparison with the medical generals, 
they could serve as models for gentlemen. I have 
told before how in Mukden Dr. Gorbatsevich used to 
shout at the surgeons, "Listen, you!" During a visit 
at our hospital, the inspector of our army asks a com- 
rade who is in charge for the day: 

"When was the patient put down?" 

"To-day.'^ 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 171 

"When were you put down here?" he says, turning 
to the patient, 

"To-day," 

Similar kinds of verifications, which any man might 
have been embarrassed to make in relation to his 
lackey, were done here with the greatest unconcern in 
regard to the surgeons. 

By the side of this arrogance, which was intoxicated 
by its rank and position, went an amazing heartless- 
ness in relation to the subordinate surgeons. The 
Evacuating Commission, which, for its severity and 
fault-finding, was nick-named "Draconic," lists for 
discharge a surgeon who is just recovering from an 
extremely severe case of typhoid fever. Without ex- 
amining the sick comrade, without having once looked 
at him. Dr. Gorbatsevich reverses the decree of the 
Commission, and the surgeon, exhausted by his dis- 
ease, is returned to his former place of duty. What 
Dr. Gorbatsevich had done with the surgeons ordered 
to duty during our stay at Mukden was repeated more 
than once. I happened to be in Mukden in the middle 
of November. Again some thirty surgeons were run- 
ning about aimlessly, without knowing where to go — 
Gorbatsevich had ordered them from Harbin in case 
of an engagement, and had again cautioned them 
that they should take no belongings with them. They 
slept in the inspector's office on mattings laid on the 
bare floor. 

One could observe only one warm, all-embracing 
feeling in the dispassionate souls of the military chiefs, 
and that was a reverent, thrilling love for the paper. 
The paper was everything — in the paper was life, 
truth, business. Before me stands alive the thin, bald 
figure of a Division Surgeon, with a morose, dry face. 
This was in Si-pin-gay, after the Mukden defeat. 

"Have you lost anything from the baggage-train?" 
the Chief of the Sanitary Division of our Army asked. 



m IN THE WAR 

"Everything is lost, Your Excellency," the Division 
Surgeon repHed, gloomily. 

"Everything? The tents, the dressing material, and 
the instruments?" 

"No, all that is safe. But the oflSce is all lost !" 

The general turned away contemptuously, and the 
face of the Division Surgeon looked more mprose, and 
his head more bald. 

During the same Mukden retreat, an officer of a 
half-company wjbich had been ordered to guard a field 
hospital asked the chief surgeon to look after the 
provisioning of his soldiers. 

"I can't do it. Lieutenant. I can't!" replied the 
chief surgeon. 

"Why not? You are provisioning, as it is, a hun- 
dred men of your detachment." 

"But I can't attend to yours. The baggage-train 
has not yet wholly arrived, and the office is not here!" 

The officer could not restrain himself: 

"Excuse me, Doctor. You seem to think that my 
soldiers feed on paper ! No, sir, they won't eat paper !" 

Our Division Surgeon reprimanded the regimental 
surgeons because all the items were not filled in. 

"But we have no data for these items!" 

"Well, well, that makes no difference. Write in 
fictitious figures, but let all the items be filled in!" 

In one of our regiments intestinal typhoid fever 
broke out. The Corps Surgeon asked the regimental 
surgeon : 

"Have you attended to the disinfection?" 

"Disinfection? Why, we have no material for dis- 
infection !" 

"Have you attended to the disinfection?" the Corps 
Surgeon repeated with emphasis. 

"Did I not tell you . . ." 

"I hope you have attended to the disinfection!" 

"Yes, but ..." 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 173 

*«Very well! Please hand me a report that the dis- 
infection has been attended to!" 

When, in the beginning of November, the fur jackets 
were at last sent to the Army, the soldiers began to be 
infected from them with the Siberian plague. Cases 
of infection occurred in our detachment also. The 
paper machine began to work, telegrams began to fly 
from us in all directions, and in reply came flying to 
us telegrams with strict orders: "Isolate," "disinfect 
most carefully^" "report about measures taken." We 
did as we were askedj and wrote a report. The Division 
Surgeon was not at home, and the report was received 
by his assistant, who was a friend of ours. He received 
the report with a serious, business-like face, entered it 
into a book, madg some kind of note, and sent some- 
thing somewhere. Then we sat down to have a cup 
of tea. During the tea, he suddenly asked us, with a 
sly smile: 

"Among friends, have you really attended to the 
disinfection?" 

This friendly question gave us a sudden insight into 
something great and ominous to follow. He most 
frankly bared before us the whole matter. They write 
false papers, the superior officers read them and pre- 
tend that they believe them, because over every au- 
thority there is a superior authority, and the latter, 
they hope, will certainly believe them. 

How important the paper was for the medical au- 
thorities, and how infinitely unimportant the health 
of a living soldier, is shown by an incredible circular 
of the Militaro-Medical Inspector Pro Tem of the 
Army, Dr. Vreden. This circular ought to be entered 
in huge letters of mourning into the history of the 
Russian military medical science: 

"In the matter of providing the troops and the 
militaro-medical institutions in war times with objects 
of medical necessity," writes Dr. Vreden, "a correct 



174 IN THE WAR 

expenditure of these objects is of great importance. 
They are furnished in definite quantities intended to 
meet only the most essential needs. On the part of the 
surgeon is demanded a detailed acquaintance not only 
with the character of the military patient, but also 
with the means at the disposal of the Army with which 
to satisfy the needs of the patient both for treatment 
and for sustenance — and this acquaintance is attained 
only by a more or less continuous service in the War 
Department, whereas almost half of the surgeons of 
the Manchurian Army belong to those who have been 
called from the reserve, who have had no experience 
in the Army or in militaro-medical institutions. As 
a direct result of the lack of acquaintance with the 
conditions of war and of militaro-medical service, may 
be adduced the rapid expenditure of the most necessary 
means on patients who, presenting only complaints of 
apparent sickness instead of real suffering, which may 
be verified by objective data, are not at all in need 
of medical aid. In consequence, complaints are heard 
of a lack of medicaments, due to the insufficiency of 
the militaro-medical supplies, whereas, in reality, there 
is an ignorance on the part of the surgeons as to the 
war patients, and an inability to use the means at 
their command. In directing the attention of the sur- 
geons subject to my authority to this undesirable phe- 
nomenon in the expenditure of medical material, I re- 
quest the more experienced military surgeons to ac- 
quaint their junior comrades, who have just been sum- 
moned from the reserve, with the peculiarities of the 
militaro-medical service as regards the treatment of 
patients. 

"In recommending the observance of economy in 
the expenditure of medical material, I have chiefly 
in view the obviation of a lack of medicaments for the 
patients who are really in need of them, and not at 
all economy for the sake of economy. Although in 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 175 

the region of the Manchurian Army and in the rear 
may be found great supplies of medical property, sent 
for the need of the Army by the Red Cross Society, 
yet the ability to use them at any time cannot serve as 
a justification of a frivolous expenditure of medica- 
ments and dressing material. Besides, we must keep 
in mind that the application for the aid of the Red 
Cross may give cause for an accusation of the militaro- 
medical department for an insufficient supply to the 
Army of objects of medical necessity. Without in 
the least limiting the use of the above-mentioned ob- 
jects from the supplies of the Red Cross, the Militaro- 
Medical Field Department considers it necessary to 
remind the surgeon that this use should take place only 
in cases of actual need." (Circular of the Militaro- 
Medical Field Department, Division of Pharmacy, No. 
1156.) 

I do not know whether it is possible to lay bare the 
whole barrenness of the Russian militaro-medical con- 
science more fully than has been done in this circular. 
Indeed, military medicine is some kind of a special 
medicine. Our ordinary human scientific medicine will 
only groan at the juxtaposition of "only complaints 
of apparent sickness" and "real suffering, which may 
be verified by objective data": many diseases do not 
represent any objective data, but in spite of the in- 
jitnctions of Dr. Vreden, are nevertheless very much 
"in need of treatment." And the question is not even 
in regard to freeing the sick soldiers more strictly from 
work or in regard to evacuating them, — no, the ques- 
tion is simply in regard to the giving of medicine. Let 
us make an improbable assumption that half of the 
patients are without "objective data" — malingerers, 
who are not in need of treatment. It would seem that 
for the other half of the sick who are really in need 
of treatment — for certainly Dr. Vreden is not con- 
vinced that every disease finds its expression in objec- 



176 IN THE WAR 

tive symptoms — it would seem that for the sake of 
these really sick one might risk wasting medicine in 
vain on the malingerers. But no, let everybody remain 
without treatment, for that is not so important. At 
least, there will be no "complaints of a lack of medi- 
caments, due to the insufficiency of the militaro-medi- 
cal supplies." That is far more important, and, mind 
you, the medical department is afraid of the com- 
plaints of a lack, and not of the lack itself. There will 
be no lack. From the same circular we learn that it is 
easy to obtain the medicaments and dressing material 
from the Red Cross, which has "large supplies, which 
may be used at any time." But what of it? "The ap- 
plication for the aid of the Red Cross may give cause 
for accusing the militaro^medical department of an 
insufficient supply to the Army of objects of medical 
necessity." 

In his circular. Dr. Vreden speaks with great ap- 
proval of "the experienced military surgeons," and 
does not express the least doubt but that they will 
fully comply with "the peculiarities of the militaro- 
medical service," as indicated in the circular. Is Dr. 
Vreden calumniating the military surgeons, or did they 
really deserve his approval? 

In one of our regiments a severe epidemic of intes- 
tinal typhoid broke out. The dressing station was 
overrun with typhoid patients. The junior surgeons 
pointed this out to the senior regimental surgeon, a 
military man. "But no, this is not typhoid fever! 
What's the use of sending them to the hospital? Let 
them get well here!" 

We showed him the roseola — "not distinct!" We 
showed him the swollen spleen — "not distinct!" And 
the patients overcrowded the station. And it was 
right here that the men were received from the ambu- 
lances. The typhoid patients who left the buildings 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 177 

for necessity fainted away. The junior surgeons were 
provoked and pressed the senior surgeon hard. He 
ultimately gave in and went to the chief of the 
regiment. The colonel was angry: 

"No, no, there is no need of sending them to the 
hospital! What's the use? Why, some people go 
through a case of typhoid while up and about. This 
is not at all such a dangerous disease, and besides, is it 
typhoid?" 

But the patients kept coming, and there was no 
empty place left. Willy-nilly, it became necessary 
to send a dozen of the more seriously ill to our hos- 
pital. They were sent without a diagnosis. At the 
door of the hospital one of the patients, upon leaving 
the cart, fell into a swoon before the eyes of our Corps 
Surgeon. The Corps Surgeon examined those who were 
brought, became excited, and drove off to the regiment, 
— and the station was at last cleared of typhoid pa- 
tients. 

In another regiment of our Division, the senior sur- 
geon had only two expressions in regard to the sick 
soldiers, and these were "malingering" and "faking." 
In every soldier he saw a malingerer. I have told of 
this surgeon in the first chapter of the "Memoirs," how 
he denounced as malingerers two soldiers who, upon 
investigation by the junior surgeon, turned out to 
be absolutely unfit for service. It was a fixed deter- 
mination of this surgeon to account for not more than 
twenty ambulance patients a day. In reality, there 
were seventy or eighty. But what kind of sanitary 
condition would that show for the regiment? 

Once, while I was in charge of the hospital, they 
brought several sick soldiers. One of them attracted 
my attention by the expression on his face: the young 
fellow, with a low, receding brow, betrayed in his eyes 
dull, repressed suffering, while the corners of his lips 
had a pronounced droop. 



178 IN THE WAR 

"Where does it hurt?" 

"Your Honor, he is deaf, he does not hear," the 
regimental surgeon's assistant informed me. 

I shouted mj questions into the soldier's ears. He 
acted as though he awoke from deep meditation, re- 
peated my question and answered it. 

During the October engagements he had been hit 
by a bullet in his hip. He had lately been ordered 
back to the line from the Harbin hospital, and he had 
a pronounced limp in his right leg. 

I asked him how long he had been deaf. The sol- 
dier told me that some three years before, previous to 
his entrance into military service, he had been hauling 
hay to the ricks, when he fell from the wagon and 
struck the ground with his head. Since that time he 
had a noise in his ears, and he suffered from vertigo 
until deafness set in. 

"I was taken into the Army because they did not 
believe me when I said I was hard of hearing," he said, 
apathetically. "In the company both the sergeant 
and the drill corporals knocked me hard on my head. 
Now I am completely deaf. I was afraid to complain, 
because they would have beaten me to death. When I 
went to the station, the doctor said, 'You are only 
pretending. I'll have you court-martialled !' So I 
stopped going to the station." 

AH evening the face of that fellow stood before me, 
and I felt uncomfortable and pained. 

I told the chief surgeon about him. In the morning 
a committee of us investigated the case of a soldier 
who was suffering from hernia, for the purpose of 
transporting him to Russia. I proposed to the chief 
surgeon to investigate about the deaf fellow at the 
same time. We went up to his cot. 

"Put on your cloak," the chief surgeon said in his 
usual voice, stealthily watching the patient. 

The soldier did not move. The chief surgeon shouted 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 179 

louder, the soldier got up hurriedly and put on his 
cloak. 

The instruments were brought. Shantser, who was 
a specialist in diseases of the ear, otoscoped the sick 
man. The back part of one of the ear-drum mem- 
branes was hardened. Shantser helplessly shrugged 
his shoulders. 

"It is difficult to prove anything here," he said. 
"Science possesses no means with which to tell whether 
the patient is simulating deafness in both ears." 

"Never mind! Go on investigating. I shall find 
out," the chief surgeon whispered, with a sly smile. 

He spoke carelessly with the soldier and secretly 
watched him. He spoke, now louder, now softer, put 
sudden questions, and attacked him from all sides, 
watching him with treacherously piercing eyes. Sud- 
denly the question flashed through my mind, where 
am I? In a hospital with physicians, or in a detention 
ward amidst gendarmes and detectives .^^ 

"He is simulating," the chief surgeon declared, con- 
clusively and solemnly. "Observe, to Dr. Shantser's 
questions he answers immediately, and mine he doesn't 
seem to hear at all." 

"This is quite natural," I retorted. "Shantser's 
voice is sonorous, and yours is low and dull." 

"No, no, do not contradict me, I can smell a rat. I 
saw at once that he was simulating. From what gov- 
ernment do you come?" 

The patient listened attentively. 

"Government .f^ From the Government of Perm!" 
he exclaimed. 

"From Perm," the chief surgeon drawled out. "Do 
you see? This is an important confirmation: accord- 
ing to statistics, the inhabitants of the Government of 
Perm occupy the leading place in appealing to dis- 
eases of the ear for the purpose of being free from 
military service." 



180 IN THE WAR 

"I do not know about that. But, to judge from his 
story, he certainly is not simulating," Shantser re- 
torted. "Was there a running from the ear? No, 
there was not. Deafness did not develop immediately 
after the fall, but gradually, and at first there was 
only a noise in the ears. Only a specialist in diseases 
of the ear, and not a peasant, could simulate in this 
manner." 

"No, no, no. An unquestionable malingerer!" the 
chief surgeon said, decidedly. "You civil surgeons do 
not know the conditions of military service, and you 
are in the habit of believing every patient. That's 
where they get the best of you. Humanitarianism is 
out of place here." 

We disputed with him violently. The deafness of 
the patient was certain. But let us assume that it was 
merely probable to a certain degree, — what crime the 
chief surgeon took upon himself in sending to the 
front a deaf soldier, who, besides, was also lame. But 
the more we insisted, the more did the chief surgeon 
stick to his opinion : he had an "inner conviction," that 
imperturbable "inner conviction," which is in no need 
of facts, and depends on the sense of smell, such as 
detectives lay claim to. 

The soldier was returned to the regiment. 

The more I examined "the peculiarities of the mili- 
taro-medical service," the more clear it became to me 
that these peculiarities, partly through natural selec- 
tion, partly through the reconstruction of the human 
soul, were bound to produce a particular type of sur- 
geon. 

A soldier is drafted into service by force, and is not 
connected with his business by any interests, hence 
he naturally will pretend that he is sick. Now the sur- 
geon approaches the sick man, not with the idea of 
helping him, but with the question as to whether or not 
he Is simulating. This necessity of constantly acting 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 181 

the detective by degrees transforms the soul of the 
surgeon, and develops in it an attitude of suspicion, 
a desire "to catch," "to trip" the patient. There is 
worked out a profound hostile distrust of sick soldiers 
in general. "Malingerer" is a permanent word in the 
lexicon of a military surgeon; for him his patient is, 
above all, a malingerer, and the contrary has to be 
proved. Dr. Kheysin tells in the above-mentioned 
article a story about a military surgeon : this surgeon 
gave the soldiers his "mixture," which consisted of 
such doses of emetics as would cause no vomiting, but 
would only give a predisposition for vomiting. "If 
the sick man is a malingerer, he won't come a second 
time, and he will warn other people !" I have already 
told how our Army was swamped by soldiers ordered 
back from the hospitals, who, according to the testi- 
mony of the Commander-in-Chief, "were either totally 
unfit for service, or who had not yet completely re- 
covered from diseases." Laymen saw that these were 
sick people; but to a surgeon, who was obfuscated 
by his "experience," which had destroyed his soul, all 
these were malingerers only. It is obvious that the 
same prejudice about the malingering quality of the 
Russian soldier existed in the head of Dr. Vreden when 
he composed his shameless circular. 

Another "peculiarity of the militaro-medical serv- 
ice" consisted in the fact that there existed the most 
unnatural relations between the surgeon and the pa- 
tient. The surgeon appeared as "the authority," and 
was obliged to say "thou" to the patient and to receive 
as a reply the senseless "So it is, sir," "Not at all, sir," 
"At your service, sir." The surgeon was surrounded 
by a useless, senseless atmosphere of that reverent, spe- 
cifically military awe which so ruins the officers, and 
causes them to look upon the soldiers as inferior beings. 
How easily and how rapidly this atmosphere intoxi- 
cates a man, is shown by a characteristic polemic epi- 



182 IN THE WAR 

sode which displayed itself during the war, on the 
pages of The Russian Surgeon. 

In the Twelfth Movable Field Hospital, a Mrs. Dr. 
A. Bek acted in the capacity of a supernumerary 
Sister of Mercy. Once, during the march, Assistant 
Supervisor Rutyshev beat a soldier. In the evening, 
during the stop, perturbed Mrs. Bek reported the 
matter to the chief surgeon of the hospital, Dr. 
Aristov. The chief surgeon tried to pay no attention, 
while the supervisor justified his assistant. "Seeing 
that the conversation was coming to an end," writes 
Mrs. Bek, "I asked whether a soldier had a right to 
complain. Then Dr. Aristov coarsely shouted at me, 
'That is none of your business ! You have no right 
to interfere in other people's aif airs ! If you do not 
like the way our hospital is run, you may leave it !' " 
This all ended with Mrs. Bek's compulsory departure. 
She told of the incident in a letter to The Russian 
Surgeon, In reply, four junior surgeons of the 
same hospital, Drs. A. Vertgeym, Danileyko, Kabanov, 
and L. Frantsuzov, sent a letter to the same Russian 
Surgeon (1905, No. 34). "The immediate cause of 
Dr. A. Bek's conflict with the chief surgeon," they 
wrote, "was, after the discussion of the fact of the 
soldier's punishment itself, the untimely and improper 
question of Dr. A. Bek in the presence of the orderlies : 
'Has this soldier a right to complain.'" — a question 
embodied in the form of a caution and almost a threat, 
that, if the soldier has a right to complain, she would 
not leave the matter alone." The authors of the letter 
declare that, "of course," this incident could not 
change their good relation to the chief surgeon, since 
"in this incident S. A. Aristov is no more, if not less, 
guilty, for his excited nerves, than Dr. A. Bek for her 
improper form of question." 

The junior surgeons of the hospital were from the 
reserve, consequently the authors of the letter had 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 183 

worn the military uniform for but a few months ; and 
yet how rapidly they had adapted themselves to the 
specifically military order, how swiftly they had 
adopted in respect to the soldiers that particular at- 
titude which is to be taken with regard to other men! 
A man is beaten. Those who are obliged to protect 
him, keep quiet. And suddenly — just think of it! — 
Mrs. Bek permits herself the improper tactlessness, as 
"a caution, and almost a threat," of teaching a man 
how to enter a complaint ! And that, too, in the pres- 
ence of other soldiers, who, for all you know, may 
remember that they are men, and, having their ears 
boxed, may ask for redress from the offender! 

This "experienced" military surgeon, who keeps 
silent where it would be necessary to burst out in 
anger for the lawless act committed, these young sur- 
geons, who are indignant at the "untimely" intercession 
— it was these who, in the place of a friendly surgeon, 
stood at the bed of the sick soldier* We were to our 
patients "Your Honor," and it took great efforts in 
a well-meaning surgeon to keep the patients from notic- 
ing the perfectly useless uniform of the surgeon which 
persistently flitted before their eyes. 

In the above-mentioned circular. Dr. Vreden rec- 
ommends emphatically to the surgeons under his 
charge, not to waste medicaments "frivolously," and 
to turn for aid to the Red Cross "only in cases of 
real necessity." To an outsider it is very hard to 
understand why the militaro-medical department was 
so afraid to be under obligation to the Red Cross. In 
reality, these institutions had the same common aim — 
of bringing surgical aid to one and the same Russian 
Army. What wrong or impropriety was there, then, 
if these institutions showed each other the broadest 
possible mutual aid? 

The surgeons themselves could not for a long time 



184 IN THE WAR 

familiarize themselves with the idea that the two gov- 
ernmental departments which attended to the medical 
business of the Army were not fraternal institutions, 
but two mutually hostile camps. In case of necessity, 
the surgeons continued to apply to the stores of the 
Red Cross, unable to comprehend the essence of Dr. 
Vreden's cautioning references to "a real necessity." 
Then the Militaro-Medical Inspector, Dr. Gorbatse- 
vich, issued the following circular: 

"The Chief Militaro-Medical Inspector, in a telegram 
of August 8 of this year, under No. S344, expresses 
his dissatisfaction because certain surgeons of the 
army and hospital units turned to the institutions of 
the Red Cross for medicaments, dressing materials, and 
other medical supplies, and even surgical instruments, 
whereas such demands should not arise in considera- 
tion of the full supply of the field drug-store and of 
the temporary military stores in objects of medical 
necessity, such as have already been furnished, or in 
case of need may be furnished by order of the Chief 
Militaro-Medical Department. Wherefore I beg Your 
Excellency to command the surgeons of the army and 
militaro-medical institution units under your charge 
to ask for medical supplies in the future exclusively 
from the field drug-store of its divisions." (Circular 
of the Mihtaro-Medical Field Department, No. 5391.) 

How this field drug-store acted is shown by a letter 
of a military surgeon, as printed in the newspaper. 
Our Days, 

^'During the whole summer we had no castor oil — 
we had no time to lay in a supply," writes this surgeon. 
"We have a so-called central field drug-store. During 
the whole summer, the Harbin hospitals begged in tears 
to be supplied with castor oil, but there was none, and 
the hospital that demanded a pud, received from the 
field drug-store a pound, whereas in the summer, on 
account of the diarrhoea, castor oil is daily bread for 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 185 

the hospitals. Why was there none? I shall tell you 
why : the field hospital wired to the factory of militaro- 
medical preparations for two thousand pounds of 
castor oil, but, after a considerable delay, the factory 
answered with the question: 'What has caused such 
a demand?' It became necessary to write a detailed 
report why and wherefore. In such a correspondence 
three or four months passed, until, at last, instead of 
two thousand pounds, we received one hundred, and the 
summer had meantime almost come to an end. A mass 
of the most necessary objects are lacking, while others 
are prepared in quantities ten times larger than neces- 
sary. Thus, for example, there is a terrible lack of 
gauze dressings, while there is an endlegs supply of 
gypsum dressings. To meet the lack, our medical de- 
partment concocted the following combination: if a 
hospital demands a hundred gauze dressings, they 
supply twenty-five gauze and seventy-five gypsum 
dressings ; but gypsum dressings cannot in any way 
take the place of gauze dressings, so the hospitals got 
ahead of the medical department in the following man- 
ner: if they needed one hundred gauze dressings, they 
ordered from the field drug-store four hundred, and 
thus received the desired quantity. Thanks to this, 
one may find in any hospital, in all the nooks where 
there is a free spot, gypsum dressings by the thou- 
sand. What a mass of papers the hospitals have to 
write before they can get anything from the field drug- 
store!" (Quoted from The Practical Surgeon, 1905y 
No. 3.) 

There was the one Russian Army. The medical 
needs of this Army were attended to by an enormous 
mass of institutions of every kind, and these institu- 
tions were almost in no way connected with one an- 
other. The militaro-medical department. The Red 
Cross. The social organizations of the county, of the 



186 IN THE WAR 

city, of the nobility. A layman would have great diffi- 
culty in understanding what these separate institutions 
were for. A plan of a militaro-medical organization 
in the theatre of war assumes no accessory aid, and 
exhausts all the sides of the matter ; and I affirm posi- 
tively that the surgical forces in the militaro-medical 
department sufficed amply, and might easily have satis- 
fied all the medical needs of the Army with their own 
means, — under a proper management, of course. It 
would seem that common sense said: what is the use 
of founding new and not at all inexpensive medical 
centres and departments, and what is the use of paying 
liberal salaries to a mass of "voluntary" surgeons and 
assistants, when there are enough of them in the mili- 
tary department? Would it not have been more 
sensible to turn these tens of millions of money straight 
into the hands of the militaro-medical authorities for 
the improvement and expansion of military institutions 
already in existence? 

But such considerations, which are based on per- 
fectly clear and obvious data, in reality could only 
provoke a smile: all this would be very easy, simple, 
and reasonable, if there were any faith in the govern- 
mental accomplishers of the medical destinies of the 
Army. But there was and could be no faith in them, 
and society said: ''What we give of our own free 
will, we shall expend ourselves, and not entrust to you." 
Thus a mass of money was spent unproductively, in 
order at least to make proper use of the other half. It 
is true that, to a certain extent, there were considera- 
tions here which had nothing in common with the war. 
During Plehve's terrible regime, the Liberals wanted 
to make use of the county organizations for the aid 
of the wounded, in order to create, at least on this 
basis, a possibility of that union of the county forces 
which Plehve opposed at all costs. It Is another ques- 
tion, whether or not those hundreds of thousands 



OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 187 

which the Zemstvos donated for the organization from 
their hungry and illiterate Governments, were justified 
by the desire for this union. In my opinion they were 
not. None the less, irrespective of the sums expended, 
the activity of the social organizations in the war was 
very fruitful, as we shall see, thanks to that very fact 
that these organizations depended but little on the 
militaro-medical authorities. The government — that 
majestic something which did not admit even a shadow 
of doubt of its infallibility — at the same time accepted, 
as something perfectly natural, that distrust of society 
towards itself, and suffered along with it the inde- 
pendent work of the social forces. 

Thus stood the matter with the social organizations. 
Having made clear the general situation, everybody 
could understand their separate existence. But to- 
tally hopeless would be an attempt to understand the 
existence of the separate Red Cross. Like the militaro- 
medical department, it was also a governmental insti- 
tution and was exempt from social control. It derived 
its support partly from donations to the government, 
partly from obligatory revenues — railway tickets, and 
so forth. Why were not these sums directly entrusted 
to the militaro-medical department, since the govern- 
ment had faith in it? What was the use in these 
fabulous sums paid out to all kinds of plenipoten- 
tiaries and inspectors-general, this maintenance of a 
multitudinous "voluntary" medical and economic per- 
sonnel ? 

And thus there came about the amazing phenomenon 
that two government departments worked in the Army 
at one and the same thing, while their mode of life 
afforded no comparison. It was as though two strange 
men were living side by side, one rich and luxurious, 
the other poor and in want. In the Red Cross there 
was luxury: it made a display of the newest medical 
appliances and means, which were expensive, and fre- 



188 IN THE WAR 

quently offensively superfluous, while in the military hos- 
pitals there were not even the most necessary things, — 
there were no sterilizers for the dressing material, and 
no supply of tincture of opium, no adonis. At the 
Red Cross the stores almost collapsed under the weight 
of boxes of expensive, rare wines. In my presence 
an officer in the car presented to his chance fellow 
travellers a bottle apiece of excellent Martelli cognac. 
His fellow travellers were reluctant in accepting them, 
but the officer said good-naturedly: 

"Don't have any compunction. I have a whole box 
of them. My friend, who is a student of medicine, is 
serving with the Red Cross !" 

There were, obviously, enormous supplies there; 
expensive wines were given away to friends by the 
box! But with us in the military hospitals there was 
a great lack of common brandy, whereas a good glass- 
ful of brandy was worth as much as the most expensive 
medicines to a chilled, drenched, and hungry wounded 
man. 



CHAPTER VI 

THE GREAT STAND! DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 

Towards the end of November we received a new order 
to move two versts to the south, to the village of 
M — — n, where Sultanov's hospital had been stationed 
for almost two months without being disturbed by 
anybody. Again we evacuated all the patients, again 
we packed up the hospital, and transferred ourselves 
to M n. Once more we started to fix up the farm- 
houses for the patients, but this time it was done on 
a large scale. 

Previous to our arrival, a little incident occurred in 
Sultanov's hospital. 

Sultanov had but lately entered military service, 
and was not in possession of any decorations. For 
the Sha-ho Engagement he was recommended for his 
first reward — a Stanislaus of the first degree, which 
every little official gets. But the commander of the 
corps was very anxious to push Sultanov ahead. He 
always kept Sultanov's hospital in advance of the 
others for this very purpose, so that in case of an 
engagement it might appear "in a front position," and 
Sultanov might be recommended for a Vladimir. The 
hospital was stationed in a well-to-do village which 
was not occupied by any military unit. It was pos- 
sible to fix oneself comfortably in the numerous roomy 
farmhouses, and to prepare the rooms for the patients. 
Thus the hospital was pretty and clean, like a toy, 
and it was ridiculous even to compare with it the 

189 



190 IN THE WAR 

other hospitals, which were crowded into a couple of 
poor, dirty farmhouses. 

When everything was ready, the Corps Commander 
arranged matters in such a way that the Commander- 
in-Chief expressed his desire to inspect Sultanov's 
hospital. In the expectation of Kuropatkin, they 
cleaned, washed, and swept in the hospital every day. 
Near the entrance to the hall Novitskaya and Zinaida 
Arkadevna placed two large wreaths of evergreens. 

Kuropatkin arrived, but not from the direction from 
which he was expected. He left his carriage in an* 
angry mood, and did not accept the report of the chief 
surgeon. 

"Do tell me, what kind of roads are these near your 
hospital! I was almost thrown out going over a 
hillock. How are you going to fetch the wounded over 
such roads?" 

He entered the hall, without paying any attention 
to the decorations. He walked up to a shining hand- 
basin and raised the lid — the inside of the handbasin 
was dirty. He ordered a fire to be made in the stove — 
the stove smoked. He looked through all the rooms, 
then asked Sultanov: 

"How many beds have you here?" 

"One hundred and twenty, Your Excellency!" 

"One hundred and twenty ? How many beds are 
there supposed to be in a movable hospital?" 

"Hem! Two hundred. Your Excellency," answered 
pale Sultanov. 

"Very well. Order six hundred beds. Pay atten- 
tion to the roads of approach, the stoves, and the hand- 
basins." 

Kuropatkin drove away, not very enthusiastic. Sul- 
tanov lazily rubbed his hands, and said in his careless, 
sarcastic voice: 

"There is trouble with the authorities. What on 
earth has brought him here? His Excellency wanted 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 191 

to have a pleasant afternoon drive, so we have to suffer 
for his disappointment." 

Two days later there arrived a colonel and a sur- 
geon, who asked for Sultanov. Sultanov came out. 

"We are from the Commander-in-Chief," the sur- 
geon announced, politely. "Have his orders been car- 
ried out ?" 

Sultanov was confused. 

"But when could I do so.''" 

"What do you mean.''" the surgeon asked in sur- 
prise. "The Commander-in-Chief sent me yesterday, 
but I couldn't get here before. Have they at least 
started the work.''" 

"Yes, sir. We have written to the Staff of the Di- 
vision." 

"Indeed, that is not work, but scribbling. Have you 
done anything.''" 

"What can I do? I haven't any means for it." 

The surgeon pensively twisted his little beard. 

"Do you want me to report that way to the Com- 
mander-in-Chief .f'" 

And they drove off. 

Kuropatkin wired to the Corps Commander that he 
had found the hospital in absolute chaos, that he 
ascribed the entire blame for it to the carelessness of 
the persons in charge, and that he ordered him to take 
the most energetic measures in order to put the hos- 
pital in shape. 

Sultanov pretended to be undisturbed, smiled, and 
said: 

"I don't care ! So long as they don't hang me, it's 
all the same to me. We all came here in order to meet 
with unpleasant things. One unpleasantness more or 
less — ^what difference does it make.^"' 

In the village work began to seethe. The Corps 
Commander sent a company of sappers to fix the roads 
and the farmhouses. It was decreed that the village 



192 IN THE WAR 

was to be turned into a whole hospital town, and our 
hospital and division lazaretto was transferred to it. 
The Corps Commander managed to obtain three thou- 
sand rubles for the repair of the hospitals, and ap- 
pointed Sultanov to take charge of the work. 

While waiting for the farmhouses to be fixed up for 
our hospital, we sat without anything to do. The work 
soon slacked up. But the apartments for Sultanov 
and Novitskaya were arranged in a marvellous manner. 
The officers of sappers, in charge of the work, sat 
for days at a time in Sultanov's rooms, dined there, and 
kissed Novitskaya's hands. 

In Sultanov's hospital there were continuous cele- 
brations. There were constant visits from the Corps 
Commander, and from all kinds of generals and staff 
officers. Frequently Sultanov drove off with Novit- 
skaya and Zinaida Arkadevna to dine with the com- 
mander of the corps. 

In the hospital, Novitskaya was in full, uncontrolled 
command. She scolded the soldiers and returned 
them to the line with the connivance of the chief sur- 
geon. The soldiers of the detachment were obliged 
to stand at attention before her. The surgeons 
thought it impossible for Novitskaya to carry out their 
commands; she ignored them completely. There were 
constant conflicts between them. 

Novitskaya was a senior Sister in the hospital, but 
instead of attending to the sick, she looked after the 
hospital in general. The meals for the patients were 
usually ordered in the evening. Once a surgeon for- 
got in the evening to order the meals. The Sister in 
charge came in the morning to Novitskaya for eggs 
and milk. 

"You have no written order, so I won't let you 
have it!" 

The surgeon wrote out the order, and the Sister 
came with it for a second time to Novitskaya. 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 193 

"Tell your doctor that he will get neither milk nor 
eggs. He must write the orders in proper time !" ex- 
claimed Novitskaya. 

The Sister returned to the hall and told the surgeon. 
The surgeon drooped his head in perplexity. Senior 
Surgeon Vasilev entered the hall. The surgeon in- 
formed him of "Her Majesty's" refusal and asked 
him what to do. Were the patients to go hungry.? 
Just at that moment, Novitskaya entered the room. 

"Plere is the Sister," Vasilev said. "Please give the 
patients milk and eggs at once!" 

"I told you that you would get nothing. Next time 
write your orders in the evening!" 

Vasilev's small black eyes rolled fiercely. 

"Madam, do you understand what you are saying? 
Sister, I am the senior surgeon, and I command you 
to give milk and eggs to the sick at once !" 

"You will get neither milk nor eggs !" Novitskaya 
blurted out, and left the room, banging the door. 

The sick soldiers looked up in amazement. Vasilev 
went to the chief surgeon. Sultanov was drinking cof- 
fee with some colonel. 

"Sir Chief Surgeon! Please tell me, is it by your 
order that the weak patients are to be starved 
to-day .?" 

"What is it? What's the matter?" Sultanov said, 
frowning. "What nonsense you speak!" 

He ordered milk and eggs for the patients. 

The detachment of Sultanov's hospital went hungry. 
Our chief surgeon grabbed everything in sight, but he 
and the supervisor looked after the detachment and 
the horses. Sultanov stole just as much as he forged 
documents, but he did not look after a soul. The sol- 
diers' food was disgusting, and they lived in cold 
rooms. The horses of the baggage train looked like 
skin-covered skeletons. The supervisor beat the sol- 
diers mercilessly. They entered a complaint with Sul- 



194 IN THE WAR 

tanov. Sultanov stamped his feet, and shouted at 
the soldiers. 

"Don't you know the order of things? You must 
enter complaints through the supervisor!" 

In accordance with the amazing military rules, if I 
complain against my chief, I must hand in the com- 
plaint to him? The bolder of the soldiers went to the 
supervisor, explained to him their trouble, and asked 
him to forward the complaint higher up. 

"I'll show you a complaint! I'll show you 'higher 
up !' " answered the supervisor, beating the complain- 
ants with a knout. 

The soldiers constantly saw generals celebrating 
in the hospitals, and they knew how useless it was to 
expect any protection from them. So they walked 
about gloomily, silently, always looking unkempt, and 
presenting a sorry sight. 

Sultanov's hospital began to become famous, not 
only in the corps, but in the whole Army. They told 
everywhere of Sultanov's and Novitskaya's exploits, 
and of their almighty power. Behind their backs they 
cursed them, but in their presence they were polite and 
attentive. No laws, no orders existed for Sultanov. 
Orders kept constantly arriving in our institutions 
from the staff of the corps, now to send to the staff 
a dozen carts for the hauling of provender and fuel, 
now to transfer to the staff from the economic sums a 
few hundred rubles, for the purchase of stereotubes or 
American wagons. Naturally all the institutions im- 
mediately carried out the orders, but Sultanov left 
them even without a reply. 

The personnel of the division lazaretto, which had 
also been transferred to our village, had fixed up a 
farmhouse superbly for its quarters: they put up a 
fine stove, papered the ceiling with white paper and 
the walls with golden matting, and put window-panes 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 195 

into the windows. Sultanov and Novitskaya once en- 
tered the house. They looked at it in surprise and 
curiosity, and admired it greatly. Two days later, 
there suddenly came an order from the corps for the 

division lazaretto to move from M n to East Chen- 

hou-zu. It was an unnecessary, senseless change, only 
one verst further to the north. It was clear to every- 
body that it was the doing of Sultanov and Novitskaya, 
who had taken a liking to the farmhouse. 

"What more does she want? As it is, she is living 
almost in a palace," said the expelled surgeons, in 
annoyance. 

Once the Division Surgeon received a paper from 
Sultanov. In this paper Sultanov wrote that "in ac- 
cordance with the Corps Commander's personal 
order, he recommended the Sisters of Mercy of his 
hospital for decoration: Sisters Novitskaya and Bul- 
anina (Zinaida Arkadevna) for gold medals on an 
Anna ribbon, "for zealous and self-sacrificing atten- 
tion to the wounded in the engagement near the River 
Sha-ho"; two other Sisters who had really worked 
zealously and with self-sacrifice, Sultanov recom- 
mended for silver medals on a Stanislaus ribbon, simply 
"for attending to the wounded." 

This recommendation provoked even our division 
surgeon, a decrepit, egotistical man, with the soul 
of an official, who thought only of himself. He added 
on the paper a note that, in his opinion, Sister Valezh- 
nikova (Vyera Nikolaevna) also deserved a gold medal, 
the more so since in attending to the sick she had 
contracted typhoid fever. 

"But there is no reason to recommend Novitskaya 
for a gold medal," his assistant remarked to him. 
"Everybody knows that she doesn't even see the pa- 
tients, but only drives out to the staff for dinner. A 
silver medal will do for her!" 

The assistant of the division surgeon was a man 



196 IN THE WAR 

with a soul. He twisted his decrepit and stupid pa- 
tron as he willed; but now, for the first time during 
their whole joint service, the division surgeon flashed 
his eyes and yelled at him: 

"That is none of your business ! Please keep quiet !" 

Having learned of Sultanov's recommendations, our 
chief surgeon hastened to recommend his Sisters, also, 
for medals, — the senior Sister, who already had a 
silver medal for service in Russia, for a gold medal, the 
others for silver medals. 

The recommendations were attended to at once, only 
Vyera Nikolaevna, I think, got only a silver medal. 
Novitskaya, who all the time lived in the "higher 
spheres," haughtily ignored the opinions of the other 
Sisters, but Zinaida Arkadevna felt embarrassed. She 
ran in to see our Sisters, to inform them that she had 
received a gold medal. Beaming with joy, she was 
provoked because our Sisters had been given silver 
medals, "whereas all had worked alike." She explained 
it in this way, that women of the nobility are supposed 
to get gold medals, while burgher women get silver 
medals. 

"This is simply shocking!" She tried to act the 
liberal. "Well, let that pass. So long as there is 
such a law, you can't help it. But why did Sultanov 
give Novitskaya and me a better recommendation than 
the other Sisters .^^ Haven't we all worked alike? I 
really can't endure such injustice!" And immedi- 
ately, transported with joy, she added: "Now, I must 
arrange matters in such a way as to receive a medal on 
a St. George ribbon, otherwise it wasn't worth while 
coming here!" 

Christmas Eve arrived. The Japanese threw notes 
into our trenches, informing us that the Russians 
might calmly celebrate the holiday, that the Japanese 
would not trouble or disturb them. Of course, nobody 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 19T 

believed the sly Asiatics. Everybody expected a sudden 
night attack. In the night we received a telegraphic 
order : in view of the expected engagement, the two chief 
surgeons of the hospitals were to go to the division laza- 
retto immediately, each taking with them two junior 
surgeons and two Sisters. Our division lazaretto had 
for some days been moved from Chen-hou-zu some four 
versts to the south, to the positions themselves. 

The order presented a flagrant case of lawlessness: 
the chief surgeon of a hospital may, under no circum- 
stances, be ordered away from his hospital, once it 
is established. In the given circumstances this trans- 
fer of the chief surgeons to the positions was a straight 
piece of stupidity: if a severe engagement were ahead, 
there would be a great deal to do, not only in the 
division lazarettos, but also in the hospitals. How, 
then, could the hospitals be left without the chief sur- 
geons? Besides, it was quite uncertain whether any 
additional surgeons would be required in the lazaretto, 
or whether there would be any engagement at all. 

The affair left no doubts: Sultanov needed a Vladi- 
mir with the swords, and Novitskaya and Zinaida 
Arkadevna wanted medals on St. George ribbons. 
Had Sultanov been ordered there, with the two ladies, 
that would have attracted too much attention. So 
half of the medical personnel of the two hospitals was 
moved "to the positions." 

It had long been dark, and we drove out with lan- 
terns. The night was calm, and as warm as in spring. 
There was no snow. We arrived in the division laza- 
retto and began to drink tea. Everybody laughed and 
made witty remarks at this fantastic order. Sultanov 
arrived with his two surgeons, but without the Sisters. 

"Where are your Sisters?" 

"They have gone to the Christmas tree at the Corps 
Commander's," replied Sultanov. 

It was true, Novitskaya and Zinaida Arkadevna had 



198 IN THE WAR 

gone to the Christmas tree, but why did Sultanov not 
take the other two Sisters? It did not even occur to 
any one to put this question, because everybody knew 
that if anybody were to come here, it would be 
Novitskaya and Zinaida Arkadevna. Yet the order 
was perfectly definite, as to coming with Sisters. 

About nine o'clock a solitary shot was fired, then 
a second, and soon a mad, intermittent fire developed 
in our positions. The guns roared heavily. Every- 
body grew silent — something terrible was taking place. 
The rifle fire spread further and further, the cannon 
rumbled, and projectiles were carried whistling into 
the distance. 

We were getting ready to receive the wounded, but 
no wounded were brought. The firing resounded 
madly and feverishly, and excited orderlies galloped 
by in the darkness. In the Japanese positions, a pro- 
jectile flashed, and a bluish beam slowly crept up on 
our positions. 

And still we got no wounded. Towards midnight the 
firing ceased. We lay down to sleep, and in the morn- 
ing returned home. The unusual mobilization of the 
hospital personnel "in the position" turned out to be 
absolutely unnecessary. 

By the way, I will tell all about this firing. 

One of the most ludicrous incidents in the whole war, 
which in general was so rich in humor, had taken 
place. There reigned a profound conviction that on 
that night the Japanese would do something to us, 
and every one's nerves were strained. The Rifle Divi- 
sion of one of our regiments heard a light, reiterated, 
spreading tramping from the Japanese front, rapidly 
coming nearer in the darkness. The Rifle Division 
opened fire. We are assured that it was a herd of 
Chinese pigs, which had escaped from a corral, and 
was running wild in the field. The fire of the Rifle 
Division was taken up by the battalion that was lo- 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 199 

cated in the trenches ; from there the fire was com- 
municated to the neighboring units, and the alarm 
was given to the batteries — and then the cannonading 
began. The officers who were in the craters at that 
time told me that flickering lines of fire from the rifle 
discharges could be seen hovering over the trenches. 
The commander of the battalion which had indicated 
the approach of the swine sent the following telegram 
to the commander of the regiment: "I am unable to 
hold out any longer ! Send me reinforcements !" 
(Many officers gave me their word of honor this was a 
fact.) They began to explode fougasses. One was 
exploded, but the other exploded of itself. 

It was then that all burned with shame: the fire of 
the explosions lighted up a desert all about. Nowhere 
was there an enemy. Meanwhile, the Japanese began 
to reply from their trenches, their projector was lit 
up, and in surprise they began to play the light on 
our positions, which were firing madly. 

In Kuropatkin's most humble telegram to the Em- 
peror this incident was explained in the following 
manner : 

"On the night of December 24, the Japanese began 
to worry us on the front of the central unit of our 
positions. Having been discovered in time by our 
guards, they were met by an artillery and rifle fire, 
and, after an exchange of shots, they retreated. Our 
wounded are one supernumerary lieutenant and seven- 
teen of the rank and file ; and three of the rank and file 
were killed." 

Kuropatkin forgot to add that they were killed and 
wounded by Russian bullets. The men who suffered 
happened to be in advance of the trenches in look- 
outs and hiding-places, and the whole storm of the 
bullets came down upon them. 

One of the officers, who was somewhat of a wag, 
assured us that there were also Japanese who had 



goo IN THE WAR 

suffered on that memorable night: the scouts found in 
the hostile trenches the corpses of a few Japanese 
who had burst from laughter. 

Once a few severely wounded soldiers were brought 
in from a neighboring hospital to our village. Their 
wounds were terrible: one had both his arms torn 
off, another had his abdomen laid open, and the rest 
had broken arms and legs and crushed heads. This 
is the way they were wounded. The regiment had 
arrived from the positions to take a rest in the vil- 
lage. A soldier had brought with him an unexploded 
Japanese shrapnel, which he had picked up on the po- 
sitions. The soldiers crowded together in the yard of 
the farmhouse, and began to examine the projectile. 
They turned it, they kicked it, and they began to twist 
off the distance tube. Naturally, an explosion fol- 
lowed. Three were killed on the spot, and eleven were 
heteivily wounded. Three or four soldiers, who hap- 
pened to pass by on their way to the quartermaster 
for some felt boots, also suffered. Some fifteen men 
thus met their ruin. What for.? For "an unfortu- 
nate accident" .f* 

No, it was not an unfortunate accident. If blind 
men are permitted to run over a field that has pitfalls 
dug in it, it will not be an unfortunate accident if 
they keep falling into the holes. Now the Russian sol- 
diers were in that condition precisely, and catastro- 
phes were unavoidable. 

The whole war was one continuous series of such 
catastrophes. It became perfectly clear that, in order 
to be victorious in a modern war, the soldier must 
show, not the strength of a bull, not the bravery of 
a lion, but a well-developed human intelligence. This 
is precisely what the Russian soldiers did not have. 
Strikingly superb in their unlimited bravery, in their 
iron endurance, they were pitiful and irritating be- 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 201 

cause of their lack of training and because of their 
mental sloth. Even if the whole organization of our 
Army presented a marvellously well constructed and 
admirably working machine — ^in reality, this machine 
was remarkably clumsy and unfit for work — this igno- 
rance of the soldiers would be like sand which clogs 
the wheels of the machine. 

"What is the name of this village?" 

"We do not know, sir." 

"How long have you been stationed here.?" 

"Four months, sir." 

The Chinese have been deported, there is no one 
from whom to get the information, the affair demands 
haste, and the messenger looks helplessly at the map, 
unable to determine whether he is going in the right 
direction or not. 

^'Somewhere about here must be the village of Liu- 
do-hou. Do you know where it is.^^" 

"No, sir." 

The messenger travels on and blunders about. At 
last it turns out that the village about which he asked 
the soldiers is that very Liu-do-hou! 

The soldiers themselves wandered helplessly in the 
locality, unable to make use of a compass or to reaH 
a map. In the engagement, where the former gregari- 
ous column broke up into broad chains of men acting 
independently and feeling separately, our soldiers lost 
themselves and were disheartened. If an officer 
dropped out of the line, a hundred men were turned 
into nothing, and did not know whither to move, or 
what to do. 

Between the positions, behind the positions, every- 
where, treacherous, intangibly ruinous work was be- 
ing done. In a moment of need the most necessary 
appliances turned out to be spoiled. They were hunt- 
ing the Chinamen, caught them, chopped off their 
heads. But what did the Chinamen have to do with 



202 IN THE WAR 

it? The majority of the important, essential cases 
of treason were not committed by Chinese malice at 
all, but by Russian ignorance itself. Let the official 
accounts speak for themselves. 

"The poles and cables of the military telegraph, 
which are placed in the regions of military activity, 
are frequently subject to destruction by the troops 
and baggage-trains. Thus, for example, it has been 
observed that the troops have bivouacked near the 
very lines of the telegraph, and once a fire was started 
on the cable itself. Horses were tied to the telegraph 
poles. Cossacks, riding, tore the wires with their 
lances. The cattle which were driven over the field 
for the day's food broke down the poles and tore the 
wires. In examining a cable which was attached to 
trees, it was discovered that it was fastened to 
branches which had been sawed oif, and that the cable 
itself had been injured. It was also found that the 
insulating covering had been cut through, and the 
wire laid entirely bare; which, no doubt, was done 
out of curiosity. The Commander-in-Chief requests 
that attention be directed to this," and so forth. 
(Order of the Commander-in-Chief, November 14, 
1904, No. 69.) 

"It has been noticed that the destruction of tele- 
graph poles by the baggage-trains and mounted for- 
agers still continues, in spite of the repeated orders 
to the military authorities to take strict measures 
against it. Daily complaints about the interruption of 
telegraph communication are received, as a result of 
the careless treatment of the telegraph lines by the 
troops. Carts, transports, and large bales frequently 
pass by the side of the main roads, hitting against 
and breaking the poles. The Commander-in-Chief or- 
ders again that attention be directed," and so forth. 
(Order of the Commander-in-Chief, December 5, 1904, 
No. 168.) 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 203 

*^It has been observed that in the region In the south 
of Su-ya-tun Station, which is In our hands, the road- 
bed of the railway is constantly destroyed by our men 
of the rank and file, who carry off the sleepers from 
under whole rail paths. The same careless attitude 
and absence of consciousness of harm done appears 
among the men of the rank and file in relation to the 
lines of the field telegraph, bridges, dams, and other 
technical constructions, the building and maintenance 
of which cost enormous sums and efforts." (Order to 
the troops of the Third Manchurian Army, January 1, 
1905, No. 15.) 

Month after month dragged by. Two enormous 
armies stood motionless, facing each other. Both 
fortified and entrenched themselves persistently. By 
degrees there arose opposite each other, as it were, 
two long fortresses, dozens of versts long, impregnable, 
and supplied with heavy siege-guns. Everywhere could 
be seen trenches, redoubts, lunettes, which were con- 
nected by subterranean passages. Both armies dug 
themselves into the ground like moles, thousands of 
eyes peered out of the ditches, and every incautious 
man was immediately met by a shower of bullets. It 
was cold, and the men froze in the trenches. The legs 
swelled from constant standing and the leg muscles 
were atrophied. Upon leaving the trenches the sol- 
diers swayed like drunken men. In the positions ex- 
isted cold, privations, and idleness, with a constant 
nervous tension from the imminent danger; behind the 
positions, at the stations, there was endless drunken- 
ness and desperate gambling. The same happened in 
the miserable Mukden restaurants. In the streets of 
Mukden, Chinese children invited the officers to "a 
Chinese madam," who, they assured the officers, was 
"heap shango." And the candidates waited in the 
yard of the farmhouse for hours for their turn to lie 



204 IN THE WAR 

down with the dirty, painted, fourteen-year-old Chinese 
girl. 

The Army was in a gloomy and sombre mood,. 
Hardly any one looked for a victory. The officers 
tried to give themselves courage, figured out by how 
many thousand bayonets our army increased each 
month, and put their hope in the Baltic Squadron and 
Port Arthur. Port Arthur capitulated. Nogi's deliv- 
ered army moved for a union with Oyama. The morale 
kept falling, and peace was desired; but the officers 
said: 

"How can we return home.? We might just as well 
take off our uniforms, for it will be a disgrace to ap- 
pear in the streets !" 

There were a considerable number of officers who 
would not even listen to peace. They had their pe- 
culiar military "honor," which demanded a continua- 
tion of the war. 

The soldiers had no such "honor"; they could not 
comprehend the war at all, and in vain tried to get 
some explanation for it. 

"Your Honor, what is this war about?" a soldier 
would ask an officer. 

"It's the Japs' fault! We didn't want it! They 
attacked us first !" 

"Yes, sir. But why should they attack us without 
any cause?" 

Silence. 

"They say that this war is about Manchuria. What 
do we want with it? We would not like to live here, 
if it were given to us! As we were travelling through 
Siberia, we saw a lot of land, there is no end to it !" 

The position of those who desired "to uphold the 
spirit of the Army" was becoming exceedingly difficult. 
It was impossible to discover anything which would 
fire the soul with the desire for heroism, with the de- 
sire to struggle for something high and glorious. 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 205 

At the staff of the Commander-in-Chief they pub- 
lished a special little paper, The Messenger of the 
Manchurian Armies. This paper, whose problem it 
was to play the role of a Tyrtseus of the Russian Army, 
was amazing for its incapacity, its lying, its absence of 
fire and inspiration. The govemmentally over-sweet 
phrases about faith, Tsar, and country, about the 
honor of the native land, endless and heedless boast- 
ing, — that was to feed the spirit of those who were 
participating in a titanic struggle, where the can- 
nonading caused the clouds to gather in the disturbed 
air, and where whole plains were covered with bloody 
carpets of corpses. I shall have to quote this truly 
remarkable paper more than once. 

This is the way the patriotic authors wrote in 
pamphlets which were scattered in great numbers 
among the soldiers. Before me lies an elegantly pub- 
lished book, with pretty illustrations, bearing the 
title: In Besieged Port Arthur, or the Heroic Death 
of Private Dmitri Fomin, The story begins as fol- 
lows : 

" 'No, Brother Jap, you can't get out of my em- 
brace! You will now taste Russian cabbage soup and 
porridge, — it's an A-1 dish !' 

"Thus thought Private Dmitri Fomin, sitting in 
his lurking place with his gun primed, and watching 
a Japanese scout. 

"The Japanese is crawling over the rocks, in danger 
of falling down at any moment. 'It isn't easy for 
the Jap, either,' thought Fomin, 'for he, too, carries 
out the commands of his superior.' Indeed he was 
sorry for the Jap. At any other time Fomin would 
have helped him to reach the top, but now, since he was 
ready to carry out the commands of his own authori- 
ties and to do their will, he impatiently waited for the 
Japanese to get close enough to him so that he could 
suddenly throw himself upon him and capture him." 



206 IN THE WAR 

Poor Russian Army, poor, poor Russian people ! So 
this was to fire them with the desire to struggle and 
do heroic deeds, — the wish to do the will of the au- 
thority. But the patriotic author is wrong in assum- 
ing that the Japanese only "carry out the commands 
of their superiors." No, this fire does not heat up 
the soul and inflame the heart ! The souls of the Japa- 
nese burned with a glowing fire, they were eager for 
death, and died smiling, happy, and proud. 

Nemirovich-Danchenko says that once, during a pri- 
vate conversation, Kuropatkin remarked: "Yes, one 
must admit that, at the present time, wars are not 
waged by governments, but by nations !" Anybody 
who had eyes and ears, had to admit that. Those times, 
when the Russian "saintly cattle" crawled up the Alps 
after Suvorov, astonishing the world by their sense- 
less heroism — those times have gone irretrievably. 

Every day they brought wounded men to our hos- 
pital. There was an amazing number of men who 
were wounded in the hand, especially the right hand. 
At first, we took this to be accident, but the unusual 
regularity of such wounds soon attracted attention. 
The surgeon's assistant comes and reports: 

"Your Honor, we have brought five wounded men." 

"Are they wounded in the hand.?" 

"Yes, sir," answers the assistant, restraining a smile. 

You ask a soldier under what conditions he was 
wounded. He is embarrassed and confused. "I 
stretched out my hand for a blade of grass," "I put out 
my hand to get the cartridges from the breastwork." 
To the Sisters, in whose presence they were less em- 
barrassed, they told outright: 

"This is the way it happened. I just raised my 
hands and shot, and it hit me in the hand. If I had 
put out my head, I would have caught it in the head !" 

The Chief Commander of the Rear writes in one 
of his orders: 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 207 



ic 



'A large number of the rank and file have been re- 
ceived at the hospitals, who have wounds on their 
fingers. Of these there are twelve hundred who have 
only the index finger wounded. The absence of the 
index finger on the right hand frees a man from mili- 
tary service. Hence, considering the fact that the 
fingers are well protected during the firing by the 
trigger-shield, there is reason to assume an intentional 
injury to the fingers. In view of the above, the Com- 
mander-in-Chief has ordered an investigation, so as 
to bring the guilty persons before the law." 

The soldiers lived merely in the expectation of 
peace. The expectation was impassionate, tense, with 
an almost mystical faith in the nearness of the desired 
and delayed "peace-making." The moment "Hurrah!" 
was heard at the station the soldiers of all the sur- 
rounding units became excited and in agitation asked : 

"What is this? The peace-making .f^" 

One morning in the middle of January, my orderly 
servant said to me: 

"The war will come to an end on the twenty-seventh," 
and he smiled enigmatically. 

"A year from now?" I smiled. 

"Not at all, sir. This very month," he replied, 
with self-assurance. 

Then he told me a story. In the Kromski Regiment 
there was a prophetic soldier. He informed his com- 
rades that the war would end exactly a year after its 
beginning, on January 27, 1905. The commander of 
the company heard of this prediction and put the 
prophet for three hours under arms. The commander 
of the regiment passed by, and he asked : "What are 
you standing for?" "For the truth, Your Honor!" 
"For what truth?" The soldier told him. "Well, tell 
the commander of your company that he should add 
another three hours under arms from me !" "No, Your 
Honor, do not offend me, but listen to what I have 



208 IN THE WAR 

to tell you. There is a letter at the post-office for 
you, and in this letter it says that your brother in 
Russia has died." The statement proved correct. The 
colonel went and told Kuropatkin about it. Kuro- 
patkin summoned the soldier, and began to stamp his 
feet and shout at him ; but the soldier said : "Your Ex- 
cellency, in your right pocket there is a box of matches, 
and in it there are forty- two matches." Kuropatkin 
counted the matches — the number was correct. He 
ordered the soldier to stay with him. "If things hap- 
pen as you predict," says he, "I will promote you to 
the rank of officer ; if not, I'll have you shot !" 

I went to the hospital. The wounded and the sick 
were speaking with animation and asking about the 
soldier's prediction. Quicker than the light which 
finds it way into darkness, the prediction spread 
throughout the army. In the trenches, in the dug- 
outs, in the bivouacks near the fires — everywhere the 
soldiers spoke with joyous faces of the announced near- 
ness of the peace-making. The authorities were dis- 
turbed. Rumor had it that those who were talking 
of peace would be hanged. 

"Well, there won't be ropes enough," the soldiers 
said, smiling. 

We ridiculed the prophecy, but — such is human na- 
ture — everybody wanted peace so much that, in spite 
of the obvious fact, an intangible joyous expectation 
nonetheless lived in the depths of the soul. And 
there were rumors which strengthened this expecta- 
'tion. It was said that the commissariat had ordered 
the requisition papers to be presented three months 
ahead and not six months ahead as was done before. 
The troops were ordered not to lay in any provisions, 
but to use up the canned goods. The German Em- 
peror, they said, visited daily now the Russian, now 
the Japanese ambassador. They no longer sent new 
troops from Russia. They insisted that the January 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 209 

flank attack at San-de-pu had been undertaken by 
orders from St. Petersburg, for the purpose of trying 
luck for the last time. They lost fifteen thousand 
men, and were unable to take a single village. It was 
figured out that, if the battle were to develop along 
the whole front, we should lose hundreds of thousands 
of men without any results — and they began negotia- 
tions about peace. In April, the rumors said, we would 
return home. 

January 27 arrived, and, of course, there was no 
peace. We laughed and reminded the soldiers of the 
sooth-sayer. They were confused, and scratched them- 
selves behind the ears. 

"I guess he was mistaken !" 

It was a bitter disappointment. Now new rumors 
developed: it was decided to organize a new army 
of three hundred thousand men for Korea, and to 
build an enormous new fleet. And Japan figured on 
fighting during the whole of the year of 1905. 

A heavy, painful sensation depressed every soul. 

A large number of officers now came to the hospitals. 
In one of our regiments, which had not yet partici- 
pated in any battle, twenty per cent, of the personnel 
of officers dropped out "on account of sickness." With 
naive cynicism officers came to consult us privately, 
to see whether they could not be transported on ac- 
count of this or that venereal disease. 

"You see, I've been here ever since September, and 
I'm sick of it. I want to get back to Russia!" 

One of the adjutants of our division staff, who had 
volunteered for the war, asked to be transported. 

"What did you come here for.'"' 

*'We were all convinced that the war would end 
in October, that it would be something like the Chinese 
war. It looked profitable to go for the sake of pro- 
motion." 



glO IN THE WAR 

On the day that I was m charge of the hospital a 
tall, handsome captain came to see me. 

"Good morning, doctor," he said to me in a heavy, 
lordly bass, offering me his hand. "I have come to 
lie in your hospital." 

"What ails you.?" 

"You see, it is like this : I am no longer a young 
man, and I am married and spoiled. I have prop- 
erty in Moscow. I absolutely cannot endure it here 
any longer ! The conditions in these trenches and dug- 
outs are so anti-sanitary that it is impossible to stand 
it any longer. I began to cough and I have pains 
in my legs. Of course, I am not in the least afraid 
of bullets and projectiles, but, you know, it is no 
particular pleasure to catch rheumatism for the rest 
of my life. Be so kind as to have me transported to 
Harbin. There I have a good Moscow friend on the 
Evacuation Commission, and there I'll fix it up my- 
self." 

When there was a rumor of an impending battle, the 
flow of officers which streamed to the hospital increased 
greatly. About these "heroes of peace times" a whole 
doggerel spread through the army. 

The order came to go ahead — 
To hospitals they go instead. 

It is a fine campaign! 

It is a fine campaign! 
A Shimose just whizzed by, 
It didn't touch me! It flew high — 

But I have a contusion! 

But I have a contusion! 
I'll get my paper by and by. 
Up north and home forthwith I'll fly. 

The south does not agree with me ! 

The south does not agree with me ! 

The commanders, seeing the flight of the officers, 
were furious. There arrived at the hospital a staff 
captain with chronic gastro-intestinal catarrh. To 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 211 

his sanitary sheet was attached a piece of paper with 
the following note from the regimental commander: 

*'It is my deep conviction that the staff captain is 
suffering from rear-mania, a disease which, I am sorry 
to say, is prevalent among the officers. Please to have 
this note attached to the sanitary sheet." 

It was painful to be in charge of the officers' hall. 
The patients wore us out with their trifling, insignifi- 
cant complaints. 

"Oh, yes. Doctor, I forgot to tell you," said a Mos- 
cow proprietor, in a deep, bass voice. "I observe 
that my arms and legs have grown awfully thin in 
the last two months." 

Another one informed me: 

"Last spring I took the cactus cure in the Crimea. 
Don't you think, doctor, I had better take up that 
cure again .^" 

"Doctor, this is what happens with me," a third 
one said: "when it is hot, I feel giddy and I have a 
sick headache." 

"That's the way everybody feels." 

"No, I have a peculiar feeling." 

I often felt like stopping in the middle of the hall 
and bursting out into guffaws. These were warriors! 
All their lives they had lived off the people, and the 
only justification of their existence could be the very 
thing which they now so carefully tried to avoid. Now 
I no longer feel like laughing. I recall my former 
patients, and I think, where are they.^^ How many 
battles with the disarmed people have they bravely 
waged in the cities and villages of Russia? How 
many women have they had flogged.^ How many men 
have they sentenced to capital punishment.^ 

Once Kuropatkin suddenly arrived in our hospital. 
His hair was black, with a tinge of grey; his glance 
was intelligent and unwavering; his face, serious and 
gloomy. He was simple in his attitude, without a 



212 IN THE WAR 

shade of Bourbonism or of a general's manner. He 
was the only one of the generals here who impressed 
everybody without exception. His remarks were to the 
point, and free from arrogance. 

Incidentally Kuropatkin also entered the officers' 
hall. 

"What are you suffering from.^" he said, turning 
to an officer. 

"From general nervous breakdown, Your Excel- 
lency," replied the officer, and, hastening to make good 
use of the opportunity, added: "The chief of the divi- 
sion is trying to have me transferred to a duty out- 
side the line." 

"Who is trying.?" asked Kuropatkin, slightly rais- 
ing his brows. 

"The chief of the division, Your Excellency." 

"And what ails you.?" Kuropatkin said, turning to 
another officer. 

"I have a cold, a pain in my joints; I cough," this 
one said, giving a list of his ailments. 

Kuropatkin drew a gentle sigh, put questions to a 
third and a fourth man, and silently left without bid- 
ding good-bye. 

Obviously he had received an old and familiar im- 
pression. A month before he had issued the follow- 
ing order, full of sarcasm and irony: 

"From the information received from the Sanitaro- 
Statistical Bureau, it appears that sickness per thou- 
sand among the lower ranks of the Army is only slightly 
higher than the percentage in peace times, whereas 
sickness amidst the officers is more than double that 
of the lower ranks. I direct the attention of the per- 
sons in charge to this fact. I direct the attention to 
this, also, that the officers, who live under better sani- 
tary conditions, should present to the rank and file an 
example of a conscientious relation to the conditions 
for the preservation of health. It must be remem- 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 21$ 

bered that it is pre judicious in war time to be ailing 
from personal carelessness." (Order of December 17, 
1904, No. 305.) 

Side by side with this type of gentleman, there ar- 
rived in the hospital from the front such old chronic 
cripples that we raised our arms in despair. There 
came a lieutenant-colonel who had been sent from Rus- 
sia but a month ago "to complete numbers": he was 
deaf in one ear, breathed heavily, had chronic rheu- 
matism, and had but five teeth in his mouth. It was 
painful to look at this ruin of an officer from the line, 
and to think of the strapping youths who were sit- 
ting in the rear and doing duties of commanders and 
supervisors. 

Another, also a lieutenant-colonel. He was fifty-eight 
years old, had chronic rheumatism, catarrh of the stom- 
ach, asthma, and a weak heart; and both his eyes had 
twice been operated on for some trouble. A fine old 
man, such as one finds among old officers, modest and 
unpretentious. 

"How can you be in active service when your health 
is in such a condition.'^" I asked in surprise. 

"What's to be done? My wife begged me to ask 
for my discharge, but how could I do it? Only two 
years are left to complete my service. I have four 
children, and three orphan nephews on my hands. 
They have to be fed and dressed. I have been ailing 
for a long time. The commission has twice given me 
a certificate to the efi'ect that I must take the cure 
at Staraya Russa, where there are some free rooms 
for officers. But you know that it is hard for a 
member of the Army to get anything without protec- 
tion. The free rooms are always reserved for mem- 
bers of the staff, and we can't get them." 

This old, old man had been suffering for three 
months in the trenches! 

The chief surgeon had taken it upon himself to or- 



gl4 IN THE WAR 

der the transfer and transportation from the hospital 
of all the sick officers. He was terribly provoked at 
the "cowardice and dishonesty" of the Russian officers. 

"They are simply making fun of us ! I will not have 
these malingerers evacuated! I'll order them all back 
to the line !" 

What really happened was this: gentle, modest men 
were ordered back to the front, while pompous men 
and such as had connections were discharged. 

By the way, that impudent Moscow proprietor wafe 
transported to Harbin to his friend in the Evacuating 
Commission. 

Once, while I was in charge for the day, I was called 
to the receiving-room late in the evening. Near the 
table, dressed in a Nikolay fur cloak, stood Captain 
Count Zarayski, the personal adjutant of our corps 
commander. And near him was a tall, handsome lady 
in a short fur coat and a white fur cap. 

"Good evening, doctor," said the count. "I have 
come to take a cot in your hospital. On my way to 
Harbin I caught a cold in my ear and an abscess has 
formed there. I have brought you a new Sister." 

He introduced us to the lady. 

A new Sister? According to law, each hospital was 
to have four Sisters, and we had already six of them: 
Besides the four regular Sisters, we had the "Boy- 
Sister" and the officer's wife who had lately returned 
from Harbin after recovering from typhoid fever. All 
these Sisters had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do, 
they were all bored, and complained of ennui and 
lack of occupation. And here was a seventh! 

The count was taken to the officers' hall, and the 
lady was given a bed with our Sisters. 

Everybody was perplexed and provoked and wanted 
to know what good she would be. When the chief 
surgeon entered the officers' hall next morning, Count 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 215 

Zarayski asked him to take the lady whom he had 
brought as a supernumerary Sister into the hospital. 

"She is a good friend of mine, and I went to Harbin 
to meet her." 

The chief surgeon gave an evasive answer and went 
back to his room. Just then the Division Surgeon 
came to see him. He learned of the count's request 
and was beside himself. 

"This will be the seventh Sister in the hospital! I 
will not permit it under any consideration!" he said 
excitedly. 

"The main thing is, what do I want with her?" 
the chief surgeon said, agreeing with him. "As it is, 
I do not know what to do with my own Sisters; I do 
not need them!" 

The supervisor poured some oil on the flame: 

"How are we to transport them.^^ Can we order 
special carriages for them?" 

The Division Surgeon, boiling with rage, went to 
the hospital to see the count. One of our Sisters said 
slyly to the supervisor: 

"I'll bet you anything that this Sister will stay 
here !" 

"You are talking nonsense! Are they trying to 
make fun of us?" 

The Division Surgeon came back from his visit to 
the count. This time he was silent, and he answered 
evasively the question of the chief surgeon. Upon re- 
turning home, he wrote a letter to the Chief of the 
Division, in which he told of the desire of the new 
Sister to enter our hospital, and he asked whether 
he should accept her. The Chief of the Division an- 
swered that he was surprised at his letter: according 
to law, the Division Surgeon should solve such questions 
on his own account, and he ought to know better than 
any one else whether Sisters were needed in the hos- 
pital. Then the Division Surgeon turned the matter 



ne IN THE WAR 

over to our chief surgeon. The chief surgeon accepted 
the Sister. 

"A new burden has fallen upon our shoulders," he 
said in irritation to our Sisters. "How am I going to 
transport the whole lot of you?" 

The Sisters told this to the new Sister. On meeting 
the chief surgeon, she said to him: "I understand that 
I shall embarrass you very much in moving." 

"Never mind," Davydov replied good-naturedly. 
"We usually move not more than five or six versts. In 
an extreme case, we shall move you all in two lots." 

The Sisters' apartment was very small. The new 
Sister embarrassed them all very much with her boxes 
and trunks. Our Sisters were huffy, but the new Sis- 
ter did not seem to notice it, and was kind and pleas- 
ant. She informed the Sisters that she was dreadfully 
afraid of patients and that she could not endure the 
sight of blood. 

"I had better act in the capacity of a chamber-maid 
to you, and clean up and sweep out our farmhouse," 
she said smilingly. 

The new Sister passed days at a time in the officers' 
hall by the count's bedside. 

The whole hospital groaned and frowned at the 
count. Once he did not like the soup which was of- 
fered him. He sent word that, if they ever offered 
him such soup again, he would smash the cook's jaws. 
The supervisor came running to the count every hour, 
in order to find out whether he was all right. Once 
the count said: "It wouldn't be bad if I had some 
wine!" The supervisor immediately sent a bottle of 
excellent Madeira which had been donated for the use 
of sick people. But the count had an abscess in the 
external canal of the ear and, of course, there was no 
reference to any wine he was to get. 

The count laughed at the attentions he received, 
and he said: 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 217 

*'It's a good thing that I'm not exacting, for they 
would be giving me champagne every day!" 

Apropos of the donations. We usually had but few 
sick people, but the chief surgeon constantly received 
fine things, warm garments, wine, and filled cigarettes, 
from the stores of donations connected with the Red 
Cross. These things were given without accounting 
and without control, and even in larger quantities 
than was asked for. "Give it to somebody or other!" 
they would say. It was a mean, contemptible business : 
the stingy chief surgeon lavishly treated the friends 
who came to see him to cognac and Madeira, smoked 
the gift cigarettes, and filled the company which came 
to congratulate him on his birthday or name-day with 
free brandy. 

Soon the chief surgeon turned over to the newly- 
arrived Sister a small farmhouse which stood to one 
side and had been fixed up for patients. He furnished 
the Sister with a separate orderly. According to law 
no orderlies are intended for Sisters, and ours, natu- 
rally, had none. They cleaned their own apartments, 
washed their own underwear, and so forth. Davydov 
furnished the new Sister with a lamp and coal oil from 
the government stores and begged her not to spare 
any fuel in order to keep the farmhouse warm. The 
other Sisters never saw any fuel wood: their fuel con- 
sisted of kao-liang which had been used for horse bed- 
ding, mixed with manure. 

The Sisters were naturally dreadfully put out about 
it, and they pointed out in what close quarters they 
lived and how spacious an apartment the newly-arrived 
Sister had. We advised them as follows: 

"Ask the chief surgeon to have a part of you trans- 
ferred to her farmhouse." 

"Oh, Lord, how dull you are! She has got to live 
alone !" 

The count regained his health soon, and was dis- 



218 IN THE WAR 

charged from the hospital. Every evening the Ameri- 
can carriage of the corps stood until late at night 
near the solitary farmhouse where the new Sister was 
living, or a sentinel was dozing, holding by the reins 
two horses, the count's and his own. 

Fairy Vyera Nikolaevna, who recovered from ty- 
phoid fever in Harbin, did not care to return to 
Sultanov's hospital and remained as a Sister in Har- 
bin. Her place in Sultanov's hospital was taken by the 
dweller in the solitary farmhouse, "the count's Sister," 
as the soldiers called her. In the capacity of a regu- 
lar Sister she received a salary of about eighty rubles 
a month. She still lived in the same farmhouse, only 
in place of a soldier from our hospital, one from 
Sultanov's hospital was attending upon her. 

And I thought how many active, experienced sur- 
geons' assistants who wished to go to the war as Sis- 
ters, were refused "on account of lack of places." 
Meanwhile, the nation's money was spent on the main- 
tenance of women like Novitskaya and of "count's 
Sisters," who could not endure the sight of blood, who 
did not know how to approach the patients, and who 
did not even wish to do so. 

In our hospital lay a wounded officer from a neigh- 
boring corps. This officer was of distinguished birth 
and had great connections. The Corps Commander 
came to see him. He was an old, old man, and, as 
they said, with an enormous influence at court. 

In our hospital there also lay a soldier from his 
corps, whose right arm was shattered by splinters 
from a shrapnel. We tried to persuade the soldier 
to have his arm amputated, but he would not listen 
to us. 

"What am I going to do without an arm? Maybe 
it will heal up some way. I have three children." 

But gangrene had already set in in the arm. When 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY ^19 

the general left the officers' hall, our chief surgeon 

said to him: 

*'Your Excellency, a soldier from your corps is 
lying here. His arm should be amputated, but he 
will not consent to it. Maybe you can persuade 

him." 

"Yes. Very well. Take me to him. I shall have a 

talk with him." 

The general was taken to the soldiers' hall and to 

the wounded man. 

"Do you know who I am?" asked the general. 

"Yes, Your Excellency." 

"All right. The doctors tell you, and I repeat it, 
you have to have your arm cut off, else you will die." 

The soldier was silent, and looked gloomily at the 
general. 

"Did you understand me?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Very well. Don't worry. In Petersburg the Em- 
press has very fine artificial arms and legs. They'll 
give you an arm and nobody will know but that it is 
a real one." 

The soldier was silent. 

"So this is what I advise you to do, and you do it. 
Do you understand me? Good-bye. Can you read 
and write?" 

"Yes, sir." 

The general moved towards the entrance and said, 

turning to us : 

"He can learn to write with his left hand." 

The January engagement at San-de-pu took place. 
For a few days the chill air was astir from the con- 
tinuous cannonading, and at twilight the fires of the 
bursting shells could be seen in the west. It was so 
cold that it was impossible to sleep in the heated farm- 
houses, even though we wrapped ourselves in every- 



ggO IN THE WAR 

thing we could find. And there, in that bitter cold, 
the battle took place. 

Then the cannonading stopped. It became quiet, 
as though all sounds had frozen. There were all kinds 
of stories about the past engagement. It was said that 
the Russians had occupied San-de-pu and the neigh- 
boring villages, but that they had later retreated with 
a loss of about fifteen thousand men. The picking-up 
of the wounded and their transportation was done even 
more carelessly than in the previous engagements. 
Only those were saved who, with their own strength, 
were able to crawl to the dressing-stations, while all 
the others froze to death. There were not enough 
carts nor stretchers. The wounded were transported 
in cold freight-cars. I was told in Mukden that in 
one sanitary train which arrived from the south they 
found thirty corpses of wounded men who had frozen 
to death during the journey. The Inspector of the 
Hospitals of the Second Army, Solntsev, shot himself. 
It was rumored that he left a note in which he accused 
himself of negligence on account of the freezing to 
death of thousands of wounded. Others said that 
Solntsev had lost his mind in the beginning of the 
engagement, and had committed suicide while tempo- 
rarily insane. 

The failure of the engagement was laid by some at 
Kuropatkin's door, while others blamed Grippenberg, 
the Commander of the Second Army. They quarrelled 
in the presence of the whole army. There were stories 
of Kuropatkin's letters, which were left unanswered by 
Grippenberg, and of Grippenberg's departure from 
the army without the knowledge of the Commander-in- 
Chief. They reported the words uttered aloud by 
Grippenberg at the Harbin station, that Kuropatkin 
was a traitor who should be turned over to court- 
martial. Everybody listened in amazement as Grip- 
penberg, in an attempt to prove his righteousness, 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY S21 

blurted out to the foreign correspondents the military 
secrets about the numbers and distribution of our 
troops in the theatre of war. 

Parallel with this, they told of the late encounter, 
in the staif of the Japanese Army, between Marshal 
Oyama and his Chief of Staff Kodama. It was said 
that Kodama had boxed Oyama's ears because the 
Marshal had systematically claimed ideas worked out 
by Kodama. A storm burst forth, but immediately 
subsided. Oyama forgot his box on the ears, and Ko- 
dama his personal insult. They were both needed for 
the business, and both remained working side by 
side. 

I do not know whether that was so, but they spoke 
of it with bitterness, with envy, with enthusiasm, as 
a sign of the great elan of the Japanese, of the genius 
of their leaders, of the education of the officers, and 
the training of the soldiers, of the amazing practical 
sense, shrewdness, and harmony of the whole organi- 
zation. 

Gertsen wrote long ago : "We need Europe as an 
ideal, as a reproach, as a fine example. If it isn't 
all that, we shall have to invent such a Europe." The 
same relation existed here with regard to the Japanese: 
if things there were not as they were represented, they 
had to be, "as an ideal, a reproach, a fine example." 
This appeared to be an irrepressible necessity of the 
soul amidst the reigning, crushing senselessness, amidst 
the stupidity of the leaders who did not inspire confi- 
dence, amidst the backwardness of the officers and the 
dull apathy of the soldiers. 

Everything which we happened to find out about the 
Japanese could only provoke shame for ourselves and 
respect for them. The care which they took of the sol- 
diers was amazing; the equipment was substantial, 
light, and convenient, and every detail was carefully 
thought out. Clean underwear was brought to the 



9m IN THE WAR 

soldiers in the positions, and the dirty linen was gath- 
ered up and given to Chinese laundresses to be washed. 
Before an engagement the Japanese washed themselves 
thoroughly, hence their wounds suffered less from con- 
tagion, and healed remarkably well. All the sides of 
a soldier's life served as a subject of the same careful 
attention, while with us a soldier was only crude, hu- 
man material. He was dirty, in underwear unwashed 
for months, and swarming with lice, out of breath un- 
der an equipment weighing two pounds, and he knew 
only how "to shut up" and "not to answer." Amazing 
things happened, which it is hard to believe: for in- 
stance, our ojfficers paid eighteen kopeks for a pound 
of sugar in the officers' economic societies, while the 
soldiers were not admitted to these societies and had 
to pay as much as forty kopeks for a pound in the 
Greek and Armenian shops. 

The more you have, the more shall be given unto 
you — that was our fundamental rule. The higher a 
Russian chief stood, the richer war was making him; 
travelling expenses, special aids, salary, everything was 
lavished fabulously upon him. But for the soldiers 
the war was a cause of complete ruin: their families 
starved, the aids from the treasury and from the 
Zemstvos were ridiculously small, and they were given 
at very irregular intervals, as the home-folks kept 
writing. 

Our Commander-in-Chief received one hundred and 
forty- four thousand rubles annually; each one in 
charge of an army, one hundred thousand rubles or 
more. The corps commander got from twenty-eight 
to thirty thousand. Professor Ott, the court ac- 
coucheur, as the Novosti wrote, was ordered for 
a few months to the Far East to inspect the medical 
institutions, at a salary of twenty thousand rubles per 
month! We read in amazement in the foreign papers 
that the Japanese marshals and admirals received a 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 223 

salary of only six thousand rubles a year, and that 
the monthly pay of a Japanese officer was about thirty 
rubles. One Russian corps commander received more 
than Togo, Nogi, Kuroki, and Nodzu, all taken to- 
gether. At the same time, the Japanese government 
paid its soldiers five rubles a month, while our sol- 
diers received the "increased pay" of forty-three ko- 
peks and a half! 

Towards the end of January I received a telegram 
from Kung-chu-ling from a friend of mine, a non- 
commissioned officer, who had been wounded near San- 
de-pu and was lying in one of the Kung-chu-ling hos- 
pitals. I went to see him. 

At the Mukden station I went up to the ticket office 
to get a ticket. It turned out that none could be pro- 
cured without a note from the commandant of the 
station. 

I went to the commandant. 

"It is too late now! You must come before half- 
past eleven. I cannot give you a note now!" 

"But, sir, the train doesn't leave for forty min- 
utes !" 

"That makes no difference ! You should have come 
in time!" 

"Please tell me, how could I know what you mean by 
being in time.^^ In the official Messenger of the Man- 
churian Armies the hours of departure of the trains 
are published, but you say nothing there about hav- 
ing to come an hour before train time. Here I have 
been shaken up for twelve versts in the biting cold, 
and I have been hurriedly summoned by a telegram 
to a friend of mine who is wounded." 

"That is none of my business !" the commandant re- 
torted, unperturbed. 

"Then tell me, please, to what higher authority I 
may appeal here." 



^M IN THE WAR 

"I do not know." And the commandant turned 
away. 

We had it up and down for about five minutes, dur- 
ing which time a few dozen notes could have been 
written. At last the commandant weakened and 
gave me the note. 

I got my ticket. The train consisted of a row of 
heated freight cars, amidst which stood out a dark 
passenger car with its stove-pipes. It was filled with 
officers and military officials. I had some difficulty 
in finding a seat. 

I got into a conversation with my neighbors, and 
expressed my surprise at the order reigning at the 
station. 

"Why did you get a ticket?" a neighbor of mine 
said to me in surprise. 

"What else could 1 do?" 

"Do you not know that every legal act of ours is 
surrounded by all kinds of difficulties for the special 
purpose that men should act illegally?" 

"But what would I do without a ticket? The con- 
ductor would ask for it!" 

"What! Send him to the devil, that's all! And, 
if he persists, slap his face!" 

It turned out that the majority in the car were 
travelling without tickets. After that time I began 
to travel without a ticket, too, and to give the proper 
instruction to inexperienced novices. It was hard 
and troublesome to get a ticket, for it was necessary 
to pass through a whole series of incidents : in one 
room they gave you a certificate, in another they 
attached a seal, in the third they furnished you the 
ticket, while the commandants acted haughtily and 
coarsely. On the other hand, it was amazingly sim- 
ple and easy to travel without a ticket. From Mukden 
to Kung-chu-ling is about two hundred versts. We 
made this distance in two days. The train stopped 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 225 

for hours at a time at each siding. They said that 
somewhere to the north there had been an accident with 
a sanitary-train, that many wounded were killed or 
wounded anew, and that the road was hurriedly cleared. 
In the car they were telling stories and holding argu- 
ments all the time. There were many who had taken 
part in the last engagement. They were strong in 
their denunciations of Kuropatkin, and they laughed 
at the "geniality" of his constant retreats. One offi- 
cer was dreadfully surprised at my not knowing that 
Kuropatkin had long ago lost his mind. 

They cursed Kuropatkin. Indeed, his incompetence 
was too obvious. But I said: 

"Very well. But who, in your opinion, should have 
been appointed in his place .?" 

As often as I put this question during the war I 
received the same answer: "Who?" The officer would 
think a bit and would shrug his shoulders. "That's 
so. There is no one to put in his place!" 

A lieutenant-colonel who had taken part in the last 
engagement said in irritation: 

"Let history determine why we have lost the other 
battles, but in regard to this engagement I assure 
you that we have lost it, thanks to the senselessness 
and stupidity of our chiefs exclusively. Think of it! 
They brought out a whole corps from the staff as 
though for His Majesty's inspection! The moment 
the Japanese saw that, they called for reinforce- 
ments !" 

He said that during the attacks the reserves sys- 
tematically never got there in time. He told of the 
incomprehensible faith of the authorities in the hope- 
lessly bad maps : they attacked San-de-pu according to 
"Map No. 6," and they sent a glowing telegram to 
St. Petersburg. Unexpectedly they discovered an- 
other village behind the one destroyed, and one which 
had not been suspected by any one. This had fresh, 



226 IN THE WAR 

untouched fortification, and a rain of shot from the 
redoubts decimated our regiments, and we retreated. 
But now this new part of the village is properly en- 
tered on "Map No. 8." 

"But I ask you, had not all this region been in our 
hands before Liao-yang.? How is it we did not get any 
precise maps for it.?" 

"This is what happened with us," another officer 
told. "Eighteen volunteers from our detachment oc- 
cupied the village of Bei-tad-zy, a superb observation 
point, one may almost say, a key to San-de-pu. 
Near by stood the regiment. The chief of the com- 
pany of volunteers sent word to the commander to 
furnish him with two companies. 'I can't do it ! The 
regiment is in the reserve, and I have no right to do 
anything without order from my superiors.' The 
Japanese came and drove off the volunteers and occu- 
pied the village. It was necessary to despatch three 
battalions to retake it from them. 

"With us in the centre there happened in Novem- 
ber a case that was even worse. Our regiment was 
standing in position. The report came from the ob- 
servation post that the Japanese were transporting 
a big gun from the Hou-thai crater to La-ma-tun. 
Near us stood a battery, only it was not in the charge 
of our commander. The commander telephoned the 
chief of the division, the chief of the division tele- 
phoned to the chief of the corps, the chief of the corps 
telephoned to the chief of artillery, the chief of ar- 
tillery was not at home. Meanwhile the Japanese 
succeeded in getting their gun to the right posi- 
tion." 

"You may bring a million soldiers here, and there 
will be no victory even then," said the lieutenant- 
colonel, with a sigh. 

On the evening of the next day we were thirty versts 
from Kung-chu-ling. I did not go to sleep, because I 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 22T 

thought we would arrive there at any moment. We 
reached Kung-chu-ling more than twenty-four hours 
later, at two o'clock in the morning. 

I stepped out on the platform. All was deserted. 
I asked where the hospitals were, and I was told that 
they were several versts from the station. I asked 
where I could sleep. The janitor told me that in Kung- 
chu-ling there was an etape for officers. How far was 
it from the station? "Just to the right from the sta- 
tion, about two steps from here." Another said that 
it was half a verst, and a third that it was a verst 
and a half. It was a dark, misty night and it was 
blowing hard. 

I walked up and down the platform. I saw some- 
thing like barracks and so I walked in. It happened 
to be the surgeons' station for the reception of sick 
from the sanitary trains. A surgeon's assistant and 
two soldiers were doing day duty. I asked their per- 
mission to stay with them and get warmed up. But 
this was difficult to do, because the thermometer in 
the barracks showed twenty-six degrees, and it ^as 
blowing in from all sides. One of the soldiers fixed 
me a bed from two benches, and I put over it a felt 
cloak and covered myself with my fur jacket. But 
it was so cold that I only dozed off twice for half an 
hour during the whole night. 

At seven o'clock in the morning I heard a noise and 
the tramp of feet about me. They were taking sick 
soldiers from the Kung-chu-ling hospitals into a sani- 
tary train. I walked out on the platform. In the 
new party of patients which was approaching the sta- 
tion I saw my friend, with an arm amputated. He was 
being transported with the others to Harbin. I talked 
with him for about an hour and a half, as long as the 
sanitary train was standing. 

The train left. I went to find out when the train 
would leave for Mukden. 



^28 IN THE WAR 

"At four o'clock in the afternoon. However, it 
did not leave yesterday." 

"Perhaps it will not leave to-day.?" 

"Perhaps." 

Somebody informed me that a military train which 
was about to leave for the south was standing on the 
fifth track. I asked permission of the chief of the 
echelon to travel with the military train. There were 
also some other outside officers who were going with it. 

Towards evening the train stopped on an up grade 
— the locomotive wasn't powerful enough to pull up 
the cars. We returned to the siding, had a part of 
the cars uncoupled, and moved on. At night, while 
ascending an up grade, four of the rear cars broke 
loose and ran back. The train started to catch them. 
The conductor told us that there were constant delays 
in the movement of the cars and that, in order to 
make up for them, they travelled faster than they 
ought to, and made up trains of forty cars instead 
of thirty. This caused new troubles. The cars were 
old and worn. Thus, for example, in one of the cars 
which broke loose the coupler had been pulled out, 
together with the wood from the beam. 

In the morning we moved to another train, which 
was travelling faster than our echelon. The old, dingy, 
third-class car cracked and rocked suspiciously, and 
at times there was a dull noise under the dirty floor 
and the car bobbed up and down. There were dirty 
puddles in the closet, and the faucet did not work. 

At night, while everybody was asleep, the conductor 
suddenly awoke us and asked us to leave the car, which 
was not to proceed any further. 

"Why?" 

"It is worn out." 

"Is something broken.? Will it be sent for repairs.?" 

"No. It is completely worn out. It will be dis- 
carded." 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 229 

We left the car, laughing. "Completely worn out !" 
At night, in the middle of the journey, it was not some 
accident that had happened, but simply the car had 
completely worn out ! It may be said that it was 
worn out to the last hole. But now the causes of the 
many disasters became quite clear to us. 

We waited at the station until six o'clock. The train 
was being shunted, and a heated freight car was being 
attached for us. We entered it; it was frightfully 
cold, and there was no sash in one of the windows. 
The iron stove was cold. Some of the officers were 
travelling with their orderlies, and some of these man- 
aged to patch up the window and ran out for fuel. 

"Make a fire in the stove!" 

The soldiers brought some wood and tried to make 
a fire. But the wood was damp and would not catch. 
The officers were angry. 

"Your Honor, I shall run out and get a dry box 
for fuel," said the soldier who was supposed to make 
the fire, running away. 

The second bell. The officers did not close the slid- 
ing door, so that the soldier might be able to jump 
into the car. The orderlies laughed. 

"Wait till he comes back! He's glad to have a 
chance to run away!" 

So it turned out to be. The train moved, but the 
soldier did not make his appearance. It was terribly 
cold, and our toes were getting stiff and numb. The 
orderlies busied themselves around the stove, wasting 
one box of matches after another. The wood hissed 
and puffed, but would not catch fire. 

Everybody was angry and scolded. At the stations, 
except at the very largest ones, it was impossible to 
get anything to eat. Not even bread could be bought. 
The officers who were coming under special orders told 
of the universal discomfort — there was no place to 
eat, no place to sleep. They were constantly directed 



230 IN THE WAR 

to some etape which was usually five versts from the 
station. 

"Do tell me, where are we? In the rear of an army 
of five hundred thousand men, or on an island of Robin- 
son Crusoe? And this is the Russian Empire!" 

In the car it grew colder and colder. Our heads 
were beginning to ache, and the cold seemed to enter 
the very marrow of our bones. A bright, fluffy hoar 
frost could be seen on the walls. Nobody was scolding 
now. Everybody was surly, sitting on the wooden 
benches, wrapped in fur jackets. At one of the stops 
two of the orderlies leaped out of the car, disappeared 
for about five minutes, and returned with roguishly 
smiling faces. They cautiously closed the door be- 
hind them. One unbuttoned his fur coat and fetched 
from his bosom an axe which he had stolen some- 
where. 

"Your Honor, just move a little." 

The orderly stuck the axe in a crack and broke a 
board out of the bench. 

"This material is going to be dry," he said, plac- 
ing the board on the floor and chopping it up. 

The wood caught fire and the car became warmer. 
Amidst universal laughter, a second board and a third 
flew into the stove. The benches disappeared, but the 
stove became heated up. We crowded around it, 
rubbed our stiffened hands, and unbuttoned our fur 
jackets to let the heat radiate upon our bodies. 

"Well, these soldiers are rogues," the officers said 
in delight. 

The orderlies were busy among the dismantled 
benches, and kept wrenching off and breaking off more 
boards. The stove was aglow, the frosty walls dried 
out, and it grew warmer and warmer. 

In the beginning of February there were rumors that 
a general engagement would begin on the twelfth. Con- 



DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 2S1 

centrated preparations were being made, and there 
was no time for expressing one's sentiments. What 
was going to happen? It was said that Kuropatkin had 
told a friend of his that in his opinion the campaign 
was irretrievably lost. This seemed to be perfectly 
obvious. But the officers' faces were unmoved. They 
said that our positions were simply impregnable, and 
that it was absolutely impossible to surround us ; and 
it was hard to understand whether they were really 
convinced of it or whether they tried to deceive them- 
selves. 

A number of Japanese dare-devils, who had made 
their way to our rear, tore up a railway bridge near 
Kung-chu-ling. There were rumors that near Tieh- 
ling there had appeared masses of excellently-armed 
Hung-hu-tziis who were burning with furious hatred 
towards the Russians because of the desecrated graves 
and destroyed temples. The rumors of the impending 
engagement became more frequent. Something mon- 
strously gigantic was moving forward, and it was felt 
that something that had never yet happened in the 
world was about to occur. 

In the Messenger of the MancJiurian Armies there 
appeared a jubilant editorial. It said that we had 
more troops than the Japanese, that a victory was cer- 
tain for us, that the Japanese themselves were aware 
of this, and that the hour of reckoning had come. 



CHAPTER VII 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 



In the morning the guns began to thunder madly along 
the whole front. It was a warm, fall-like day, and an 
invigorating, warm wind was blowing from the south. 
The thin layer of snow was melting in the sun, and 
the pigeons were stirring under the eaves of the farm- 
houses and fixing their nests. The magpies and spar- 
rows were chattering. The guns were thundering and 
the flying projectiles were whistling. Everybody was 
filled with the one serious and solemn thought, "It has 
begun." 

At sundown the cannonading died down. All night 
long infantry units, batteries, and parks moved in col^ 
umns from west to east. Under the vault of the heav- 
ens with its dim stars the noise of wheels over the hard, 
frozen earth was borne far into the distance. At 
three o'clock the waning moon arose; it was yellow 
and covered with a misty veil as though it were painted 
over. The units were still moving and the air was filled 
with the constant, even sound of the wheels. 

Slowly and threateningly, day after day passed. 
There were blizzards, and dry, flaky snow was borne 
in clouds through the air. It grew silent. The frosts 
increased. The snow fell. The sun warmed the air. 
In the positions the guns still roared and the salvos 
from the rifles came in gusts — short, sharp salvos, as 
though somebody were chopping wood. At night the 
fires of bursting shells flashed. In the dark heavens 

232 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 233 

there gleamed faint reflections of gun discharges, and 
the rays of the projectiles crept up cautiously. 

Our hospitals stood beyond the Putilov crater. In 
the crater something terrible was taking place. From 
morning until night the Japanese showered upon it 
projectiles from eleven-inch howitzers. The steel 
monsters, snorting, flashed by from an unseen distance, 
and hit the trenches, the entanglements, and the cov- 
ered pits. Greyish yellow and dingily black clouds of 
smoke from the explosions rose into the air, spread, 
and branched out like enormous bushes. They sepa- 
rated from the crater and melted away, soiling the sky, 
and from below rose new columns of smoke. So it was 
in daytime. But at night continuous attacks upon the 
crater took place. Its inclines were covered with 
Japanese corpses. 

There were rumors that the Japanese had de- 
cided to take possession of the crater at all costs, 
and it certainly looked that way, for such a mass of 
new regiments proceeded every night to the attack. 
Only much later did we learn what the trouble was. 
The persistent attacks of the Japanese upon our 
left wing and centre made Kuropatkin think that it was 
here that they were preparing their stroke. So 
Kuropatkin concentrated his main forces here. The 
Japanese, meanwhile, kept transferring their troops 
to the opposite wing, where Nogi's flanking army was 
moving to our rear. The Putilov crater was in the 
centre. Every night the marching Japanese regiments 
stormed the crater and in the morning went farther 
west, while new regiments came up from the east. Thus 
we received the impression that almost the whole 
Japanese army was thrown against our centre. 

The air was saturated with rumors. Some said that 
Sha-ho Station was in our hands, that we had taken 
seventeen guns from the Japanese, that on the left 
wing Linevich had defeated the Japanese and was driv- 



234! IN THE WAR 

ing them towards Liao-yang. Others said that the 
Japanese had moved forward on both flanks. 

In Sultanov's hospital a new supernumerary Sister, 
Varvara Fedorovna Kamenev, had worked for the last 
six weeks. Her husband, an artillery officer from the 
reserve, served in our corps. She had left a baby at 
home, and had come here in order to be near her hus- 
band. Her soul was like a tautly-drawn string, which 
vibrated tremulously with hidden longing, expecta- 
tion, and terror. Her relatives had great connections, 
and they offered to have her husband transferred to 
the rear. Wringing her hands in despair, she re- 
plied : 

"If he accepts this, I shall stop respecting him!" 
And now, when all of us, who had long become accus- 
tomed to the cannonading, were talking and laughing, 
scarcely hearing it. Sister Kamenev sat with a pale, 
distracted face, listening intently, and feebly starting 
at every discharge of a gun. 

The officers' halls of our hospitals were filled to 
overflowing with officers. One was hoarse, another had 
a pain in his side, a third complained of "pain in the 
head, in the shoulder, in the back duct." Until late 
into the night they played at cards, and arose at 
about eleven o'clock. There was an orderly officer 
from the stafi^ of our division lying there. Lieutenant 
Shestov. Just before the beginning of the engage- 
ment his horse tripped under him, and he hurt his 
thumb. So the lieutenant had already been lying six 
days in the hospital. With his arm in a black sling, 
he visited us, Sultanov's hospital, and the Zemstvo 
detachment, which had stopped in our village about a 
month ago. 

Pretty Sister Leonova was massaging his hand, 
"What! Are you through? Please massage it a 
little longer!" begged the lieutenant, and, blinking like 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT SS5 

a cat, he felt soothed from the touch of the small, soft 
hands of the girl. 

In the evenings the lieutenant tried to meet Leonova 
in the streets, walked by her side, smiling with the 
sharp smile of a satyr, and drew her for walks in soli- 
tary places. At last, Leonova begged the surgeon 
to free her from massaging the lieutenant's hand. The 
cannonading increased from day to day. Timidly and 
cautiously, as though not trusting itself, a disturbing 
bit of news began to spread through the army — namely, 
that the Japanese were surrounding us on the right 
flank. 

"Nonsense!" said the officers, laughing. 

But the rumor spread and became more persistent. 
A dim anxiety kept growing stronger. One evening 
we were drinking tea in the Zemstvo detachment. Lieu- 
tenant Shestov, with his right arm in a black sling, 
was also there. 

"They are talking ever more persistently of out- 
flanking us," I remarked. 

Shestov looked me over and smiled condescendingly. 

"Doctor, how can you believe it ! It is impossible !" 

Forgetting that he could not use his right hand, the 
lieutenant took a piece of paper and began to draw 
upon it the disposition of our troops and of those of 
the Japanese. From this drawing it became perfectly 
obvious that it was as impossible for the Japanese to 
outflank us as to transfer the whole army to the moon. 
Next evening, about five o'clock, the Japanese guns be- 
gan to roar directly behind Mukden. 

Let the lieutenant alone! Obviously, all the mili- 
tary chiefs were imperturbably convinced of the utter 
impossibility of being outflanked. In the very begin- 
ning of the engagement an officer had been sent forag- 
ing in the extreme right flank. Upon returning, he 
reported to his superiors that he had seen dense col- 
umns of the Japanese moving northward. The com- 



^36 IN THE WAR 

mander of the corps wrote on the report, "Idiot !" And 
the chief of the division said, "This gentleman ought 
to be court-martialled for spreading false rumors !" 
I was told this by the surgeon, who had himself heard 
these words of the general. The surgeon asked him : 

"Your Excellency, is the outflanking really impos- 
sible?" 

The general opened his eyes wide in amazement. 

"The outflanking? Oh, yes. However, you are not 
a military man." He turned to the chief of the staff: 

"Colonel, please explain to the doctor the whole 
nonsense of this assumption!" 

The guns thundered behind Mukden and madly 
roared along the whole front. I had never heard any 
cannonading like it; there were from forty to fifty 
discharges a minute; the air trembled, howled, and 
whistled. The cook of the Zemstvo detachment, Fera- 
pont Bubenchikov, listened in contrition to the howling 
of the projectiles as they cut through the air, lay 
down upon the ground, and kept repeating: 

"Good-bye, Moscow! You will never see Ferapont 
Bubenchikov again!" 

It was reported that twenty-five thousand Japanese 
were approaching Mukden from the west, that a bat- 
tle was already raging at the imperial tombs near 
Mukden, and that another twenty-five thousand were 
making a wide detour in order to reach Kung-chu-ling. 

The Zemstvo detachment received a telegram from 
the chief of the sanitary unit which read that, by the 
order of the Commander-in-Chief, all the institutions 
of the Zemstvos and the Red Cross which had no trans- 
portation facilities of their own, were immediately to 
break camp and leave for Mukden, whence they were 
to go north by rail. But the halls of the Zemstvo de- 
tachment, as well as those of our hospitals, were filled 
with wounded men. The Zemstvo men read the tele- 
gram, laughed, and remained where they were. 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT SS7 

Before me, on a stool, sat a middle-aged soldier, 
with the flesh of his hip lacerated. He wore a clumsy 
grey overcoat, and his face was covered with a shaggy 
beard. When I addressed him he respectfully straight- 
ened himself up and tried to rise. 

"How old are you?" 

**They say forty, but I do not know." 

"Have you been long in the war?" 

"Since the Feast of the Intercession. We were 
driven to Krasnoyarsk to be put in military uniform, 
and we were stationed there. They were calling for 
volunteers, and so I went." 

I glanced at him; he was quite old, and his eyes 
were those of a meek peasant. 

"Aren't you sorry that you went?" 

"No. If my leg heals up I should like to go again," 
he replied, pensively. 

He looked shaggy and dismal. What was there in 
his soul? One could surmise a dim consciousness of 
a great social work, the consciousness of his personal 
connection with something important. But, on the 
whole, it was difficult to understand him. 

A short man in a strange uniform was brought 
to the hall. The wounded bestirred themselves, and 
their glances were directed towards the one com- 
ing in. 

"A Jap, a Jap!" 

The short man moved slowly, leaning on the shoul- 
der of the assistant and dragging his left leg. With 
his glistening black eyes he looked surreptitiously and 
cautiously at everything around him. When he saw 
my officer's shoulder-straps, he straightened himself 
up and placed his hand to his cap, with his palm for- 
ward, as our boys who play soldier do. His pale face 
was covered with a layer of dust, his lips were cracked 
and parched, but his eyes cast a rapid, piercing 
glance. 



S38 IN THE WAR 

A bullet haH lodged itself in the Jap^s loin. I mo- 
tioned to him that he should undress himself. The sol- 
diers were silent and watched the Japanese with con- 
centrated, curious hostility. I asked him to what army 
he belonged. 

«Oku.?" 

The Japanese smiled quickly and obligingly nodded 
his head. "Oku, Oku." 

"Oku.f^'* I looked suspiciously at the Japanese. 
"Don't you mean Nodzu.'* Hodya,^ Nodzu?" 

His shifting, roguish eyes glistened, and he shook 
his head again: 

"Nodzu, Nodzu." 

The Japanese undressed himself. He took off his 
ample camel cloak with its goatskin collar, and under 
it there was a sleeveless fur jacket. The soldiers 
laughed. The Japanese looked at them and laughed, 
too. After the jacket there followed a black uni- 
form with its shoulder-straps removed (so that we 
might not find out to what regiment he belonged), 
after the uniform came a vest, and after the vest, 
another vest. The laughter increased and passed into 
guffaws. The soldiers roared and so did the Japanese; 
and because he roared so merrily and so good-natur- 
edly with the rest, the hostility disappeared in the 
soldiers' laughter and the friendly uproar united all 
the men in the farmhouse. 

The soldier took off a jersey and a calico shirt. 
The bullet wound in the hip had already closed. The 
Japanese nodded his head interrogatively at me, 
rubbed his hands, and then began to smooth his round, 
close-cropped head with its black, bristly hair. 

"He wants to wash himself," the surgeon's assistant 
ventured to remark. 

I ordered a basin of warm water and soap to be 
brought. The Jap's eyes glistened with joy. He 
1 Friend. 



^ 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 239 

began to wash himself. Oh, Lord, how he washed 
himself! With bhssfulness, with inspiration! He 
washed his head, his neck, his body. He undressed 
himself and began to wash his legs. The drops of 
water glistened on his strong, bronzed body, and the 
body glistened and grew fresh from the cleanliness 
which took possession of it. All were seized with ad- 
miration at the sight of his washing. The hospital 
surgeon ran to the mess-room and brought some more 
water. 

The Japanese looked gratefully at him, and laughed 
out merrily. The servant glanced around him, and 
also laughed. The Japanese began once more to 
wash with soap his chest, his neck, and his bristly 
head. The lather ran down in streams, the water 
spurted, the Japanese snorted and shook himself. 

On a bench in the corner lay a soldier who was 
wounded in the hip and whose wound I had just fin- 
ished dressing. He kept looking at the Japanese. He 
watched his clean, strong body as it gleamed under 
the water. Suddenly he drew a sigh, scratched his 
head, and sat up with determination. 

"Well, I guess I shall wash myself, too.' 



9? 



From the positions the news was brought to Sister 
Kamenev that her husband, an officer of artillery, was 
mortally wounded: he had ascended an observation 
tower, his glasses ghttered in the sun, and a well- 
aimed bullet hit him in the head. Sister Kamenev had 
her own buggy and horse. She hurried away to the po- 
sitions. 

Behind Mukden the guns roared as before, but we 
now had good news. It was said that Kuropatkin 
himself, at the head of the Sixteenth Corps, had at- 
tacked the flanking detachment, which he had sur- 
rounded and crushed. Three thousand Japanese threw 
away their guns and surrendered. Our caterer, who 



240 IN THE WAR 

had been to Mukden, had seen crowds of prisoners at 
the station. 

Towards evening an enormous transport of wounded 
was brought to our village. We took a part of them 
and the rest went to Sultanov's hospital and the 
Zemstvo detachment. 

The wounded were from the Putilov crater and from 
its neighborhood. Towards the west of the crater lay 
two strongly-blindaged trenches, in which two com- 
panies were stationed. Above their heads were thick 
beams, which were covered with earth about two feet 
deep; and in front were narrow loop-holes, protected 
by sand-bags. During the last few nights the men 
in these trenches laid low a mass of Japanese who 
had advanced to attack the crater. This morning the 
Japanese had directed their siege-guns against the 
trenches. One gun's discharge followed another, every 
shot being directed against the trenches, and the enor- 
mous blindage beams were shattered. Half an hour 
later the two mighty trenches were turned into a mass 
of earth, splinters, and blood-stained, maimed men. 

The wounded were carried into' the hospital rooms, 
and were placed on the straw-covered oven-places. 
There they lay and sat, singed by powder, with broken 
heads and crushed extremities. Many were stunned, 
and they did not answer to questions, but sat immov- 
able, rolling their eyes. 

"Why don't they talk?" the Sister asked in surprise. 

"Very likely the ear-drum is injured, and they are 
deaf. Maybe there is a concussion of the brain." 

"Just look! One of them is talking!" 

A bearded soldier, with a blue, pufFed-up face, was 
leaning with the elbow of his uninjured arm against 
the pillow and was telling his neighbor in an unusually 
loud voice, such as deaf people use: 

^Says I to him, 'Don't look out without cause!' 



«( 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT ^41 

But he did! My comrade's head was split in half, 
the little Tatar was all smashed in bits, but I got 
away with a contusion." 

His neighbor looked strangely at him, but was silent 
and slowly blinked his eyes. 

"Your Honor, is it true that the Japanese have 
outflanked us again.?" another wounded soldier said, 
turning mysteriously to me. 

"That's what they say." 

The soldier was silent for a moment, then he asked 
in a perplexed whisper: 

"Your Honor, why have we so little success.''" 

A soldier of the East-Siberian Rifle Division, with 
a shattered leg, was carried to the operating-room 
to have his limb amputated. His waxen yellow face 
was peppered black from powder burns, and on his 
singed beard the ends of the hairs had curled up. As 
he was being put under the anaesthetic, and was just 
losing consciousness, he wept and cursed. As if from 
a dark, inaccessible depth, there rose the words which 
betrayed the secret thoughts of the soldier's woe: 

"Russia has disgraced herself! What is the use 
wasting people for nothing? They beat and maim us, 
and there is no good in it!" 

Again curses broke from his lips, and there re- 
sounded a dull sound which resembled weeping. 

They placed the wounded in the halls and gave them 
something to eat and drink. They had not slept 
for three days, had hardly eaten anything, and had 
not even had anything to drink — they had had no 
time for it, and they could not get any water. Now 
they were gently enfolded by rest, quiet, and the con- 
sciousness of safety. In the farmhouse it was warm 
and cosy from the bright lamps. They drank tea and 
conversed with animation. In clean linen, their clothes 
removed, the soldiers lay down to sleep and wrapped 
themselves in their coverlets with real enjoyment. 



^m IN THE WAR 

Suddenly, at nine o'clock in the evening, there came 
a telegram from the Corps Surgeon, at the command 
of the Chief of the Corps, to evacuate all the wounded 
from the hospital immediately, to pack all the surplus 
government property, and to move north to the village 
of Hun-hep. 

Everything was bustle and confusion. The carts 
were hurriedly hitched, the wounded, who had just 
fallen asleep, were awakened, the hospital linen was 
taken from them, and they were dressed in their former 
rags and fur jackets. They sat on their benches in 
mortal fatigue, swayed to and fro, and, sitting, fell 
asleep. Just one night, just one night of rest, how 
it would have strengthened them, how much better 
it would have been than all the medicines and 
bandages ! 

Twelve carts drove up. The horses snorted and 
neighed, and the lanterns flickered. The officers were 
playing at cards in their room. Lieutenant Shestov, 
with his arm in a black sling, was lying on his bed, 
reading a translation of Onet's novel, Bi/ Candle 
Light. The chief surgeon told the officers not to 
trouble themselves, and to sleep peacefully through 
the night — he would have plenty of time to attend to 
them next morning. 

In the yard, by lantern light, the wounded soldiers 
were brought out and placed in the carts. It was cold, 
the stars twinkled, and to the south roared the guns 
and burst noiseless reflections. The broad beam 
of the projector crept over the sky. Towards the 
right the enormous distant glow of the morning 
swayed. 

The wounded were to be transported for a distance 
of five versts to the Fu-shun branch, although many 
of them were wounded in the abdomen or in the head 
and many had their limbs crushed. We had a con- 
flict with the chief surgeon because of these wounded, 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 243 

and yet we did not succeed in delaying their departure 
until morning. 

Assistant Pastukliov came to me and said to me 
in agitation: 

"Your Honor, the wounded have already received 
their tickets and I have not yet had time to enter their 
diagnosis in the book! Please have the tickets 
taken up !'' 

"Nonsense! The wounded have already been placed 
in the wagons, and do you mean that they are to wait 
half an hour in the cold while you will enter their diag- 
nosis? Not at all!" 

"The chief surgeon has so ordered!" 

"Start!" I shouted furiously to the drivers. 

The transport started. The wounded were wrapped 
in everything that we could lay our hands on, yet 
they froze severely on the way. Some begged to travel 
faster, because it was so very cold; others begged to 
travel slower, because they were being shaken up so 
much. 

At last we arrived at Hudiad-zy, on the Fu-shun 
branch. A mass of transports from the neighboring 
hospitals was already gathered there — everything was 
bustle and confusion, and it took a long time to dis- 
tribute the sick in the hospitals. Those who were 
received there immediately fell into a profound sleep. 
They had to be awakened again to have the hospital 
linen put on them. 

The surgeons informed me that, according to rumor, 
the Japanese were pressing us hard on the right flank, 
and that they were capturing village after village in 
their attempt to unite with the flanking army. On 
the left wing, too, our men had retreated for a distance 
of six versts. 

I drove back. It was late in the night; in the dis- 
tance the guns roared madly, and the reflections of 
the discharges flashed like sheet lightning. The stars 



244 IN THE WAR 

did not twinkle, for they were surrounded with dim 
coronas. 

At two o'clock there entered our farmhouse two 
excited Cossacks, with their muskets over their shoul- 
ders. 

"Your Honor, has any one of you just been riding 
from Yu-zan-tun?" 

"I have just arrived from the north, from Hu- 
diad-zy." 

"No, from Yu-zan-tun." 

The Cossacks were looking for a Japanese spy, who 
was dressed as a Russian military surgeon. Near 
Bia-ta-pu he had asked some infantrymen whither the 
Twenty-fifth Division had gone, and they had told him. 
Then it occurred to them that his eyes were slanting 
and that his Russian pronunciation was bad. They in- 
formed the Cossacks and these started after them. The 
suspected surgeon made some inquiries of the artillery- 
men near Yu-zan-tun, and then of the baggage men. 
The baggage men became suspicious and wanted to 
hold up the surgeon, but he wheeled his horse around 
and galloped away, while the soldiers had no rifles. 
After that, the trace of the Japanese was lost. Some- 
body had seen a military surgeon on his way to our 
village. 

"So it was not you.'"' 

The Cossacks left the farmhouse and galloped away. 

"Yes, the Japanese are not sleeping, they are work- 
ing," Selyukov said, with a sigh. 

Shantser listened pensively to the rumbling of the 
guns. He shrugged his shoulders nervously and dis- 
gustedly. 

"Oh Lord! It seems as though the Russian guns 
were shooting quite differently from the Japanese! 
The sound from them is dull 4nd slow." 

In the morning we met the Zemstvo surgeons. 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 245 

"You did not leave?" we asked in surprise. 

"Why should we?" 

"But you were ordered to leave!" 

"Much do we care about executing their orders ! We 
came here to work, and not to go joy-riding on the 
railways !" 

It turned out that they had not executed the com- 
mands of the previous day, to evacuate the wounded, 
but had been operating all night. With one soldier, 
who was wounded in the head, a sphnter of the tem- 
poral bone had turned sideways and entered the brain. 
The patient struggled with all his might and broke 
the stretcher under him. His skull was trepanned, the 
splinter was removed, and the patient quieted down 
at once. In all probability he was saved. Had he 
found his way to our hospital, with the splinter pierc- 
ing his brain, he would have been carried in a shaky 
wagon to the Fu-shun branch and the bone would have 
entered deeper and deeper into the brain. 

"We know these Trepovs well!" the Zemstvo man 
said, smiling. "They are military men, and their chief 
object is to send telegrams to St. Petersburg, 'All the 
wounded have been removed.' If half of them die in 
consequence of it — 'That's what war means!' What 
are we risking? To remove the seriously wounded, to 
have them shaken up, to transfer them — that is cer- 
tain death for them. When we have to retreat, we 
shall consider what is to be done. Why should we 
fear Trepov? He will scold us, that's all! What 
of it?" 

That very day, on February 19, we received the 
order not to accept any more wounded, to break up 
the hospital, to pack up, and to be ready to move at 
the first word. Evening came, everything was dis- 
mantled and packed up, and we had had no supper. 
We were told that the Japanese continued to press us 
on the right flank. Kuropatkin had surrounded and 



246 IN THE WAR 

beaten the flanking detachment, but in the rear, in 
successive detachments, there appeared ever-new flank- 
ing" columns. 

"They are pressing upon us without number, like 
pigs, like locusts !" the passing Cossacks said, in nerv- 
ous perplexity and terror. "They storm us without 
their clothes, in nothing but their gymnasium trunks ! 
We lay thousands of them low, but they press on 
harder, just like drunken men." 

At two a'clock in the night there came a telegram 
from the staff of the corps, ordering the two hos- 
pitals immediately to advance to the village of Hun- 
he-pu, some seven versts to the northwest. Fifteen 
minutes later there arrived a new telegram: the Corps 
Commander permitted us to stay over night where we 
were, and to advance next morning. 

"Obviously it has occurred to him that Novitskaya 
must have a night's rest!" was our guess. 

In the morning we started. The Zemstvo people 
laughed, as they bade us good-bye. 

"Do you remain.'^" we asked them, in mortification 
and envy. 

"We do. We shall have time to run — that is easy 
enough." 

It was a quiet, sunny morning. Our baggage-train, 
raising the dust, moved slowly along the road. We 
were on horseback. Behind us, to the left, in front 
of us, roared the guns. Amidst the tense outlines of 
the horsemen who were travelling with the baggage- 
train there was one new figure. It was that of Lieu- 
tenant Shestov. His hand had completely recovered, 
and the day before he had been discharged from the 
hospital. But the lieutenant "did not know where 
the staff was now," and so he travelled with us. 

Hun-he-pu was crowded to overflowing with bag- 
gage-trains and artillery parks. All the farmhouses 



4 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 247 

were filled. We found quarters in a miserable clay 
barn. We went to have some tea with some friends 
of ours, who were surgeons in the hospital located at 
Hun-he-pu. 

There we were told that a telegram had been re- 
ceived from the Tsar, congratulating the Army for 
its victory. 

"What victory.?" 

"They say that the flanking army has been shat- 
tered to dust, and that we are passing over to an 
attack." 

"What losses there are in our corps! The X Regi- 
ment has lost fifteen hundred men, the Z Regiment is 
almost completely annihilated, and its commander is 
killed." 

"The devil take it! Shrove-tide is at hand — a fine 
Shrove- tide !" 

"Gentlemen, have you heard, the Japanese have flung 
into our trenches a note in which they invite the Rus- 
sians to Mukden on the twenty-fifth of February for 
Shrove-tide dumplings !" 

"Those impudent fellows !" 

Sultanov's hospital also arrived at Hun-he-pu. Nat- 
urally^, there were no farmhouses to be found for him. 
As always, during the campaign, Sultanov was irrita- 
ble and furiously angry. With great difficulty he 
found for himself a dirty, ill-smelling farmhouse at the 
edge of the village. His first order to the soldiers of 
the mess was to have an iron plate put into the stove, 
and to the cook to get a dinner for him. Novitskaya 
examined the dirty, soup-covered farmhouse, which 
smelled of garlic and bean-oil, and said, sadly: 

"At M the ceiling and the walls were covered 

with rose paper, and there was some matting on the 
floor !" 

Sultanov, yellow with anger, sent the Corps Com- 
mander the following telegram: 



^48 IN THE WAR 

"I haven't found a single free farmhouse. Where 
do you order us to locate ourselves?" 

I could imagine our Corps Commander, as he was 
reading the telegrams that came: in such-and-such a 
regiment fifteen hundred men were killed; such-and- 
such a regiment was completely annihilated at this 
point ; at that point the Japanese have appeared in our 
flank; and Dr. Sultanov cannot find any comfortable 
apartments ! 

Lieutenant Shestov did not succeed in finding out 
where the division staff was, so he located himself 
in the hospital. While we were drinking tea with the 
surgeons, he called on them. When he unexpectedly 
noticed us, he scowled, seated himself quietly in a cor- 
ner, and began to turn the pages of a much-thumbed 
volume of the Niva. 

Our chief surgeon, gloomy and distracted, entered. 

"A new telegram has been received — to cross the 
bridge over the river Hun-ho and to wait there for 
further orders." 

"Do you happen to know how matters stand?" 

"Well, the Japanese have broken through the cen- 
tre. Su-ya-tun is on fire. We have been ordered to 
keep kerosene in readiness with which to fire all the 
stores at the first word. The office, the treasury, and 
the baggage-trains of the second order are being trans- 
ferred to the north." 

Towards evening we received a second telegram to 
go at once to the village of Pa-Hn-pu, to the east of 
Mukden. 

We started just as the sun was setting. The wind 
was barely stirring, and the horizon was misty, either 
from smoke or dust. Endless baggage-trains crowded 
at the narrow, old, and worn pontoon-bridge over the 
river Hun-ho. We waited for a long time in anxiety 
for our turn. From the other side there came a Boriso- 
glyeb Company. 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT M9 

**Where do you come from, boys ?" 

"We took some mortars to Tieh-ling." 

At last we crossed the bridge, and we moved more 
evenly. It grew dark, and it was calm. The stars 
were out, and it was very cold. We reached the south- 
ern gate of Mukden and turned to the right along 
the city wall. Over the baggage-train a fine, thick 
dust hung immovably. It penetrated the eyes and the 
nose, and made it hard to breathe. It became colder 
and colder, and our feet grew numb in the stirrups. 

"Yes, *a languid breeze the night is filling,' " Selyu- 
kov sighed, shivering with the cold. 

We marched and marched. None of those whom 
we met knew where the village of Pa-lin-pu was. It 
couldn't be found on our map, either. If a wagon 
broke down we stopped, and then moved on again. We 
stopped near a ruined bridge, looked in the darkness 
for a passage over the ice, and moved on again. We 
were seized more and more by fatigue, and our heads 
were in a whirl. In the darkness the greyish road 
could be discerned; to the left, without a break, 
stretched the tall city wall. Behind it could be seen 
the tree-tops and the gables of the bent roofs, calm 
and mysteriously strange in their peculiar, foreign 
life. 

The waU was left behind, and fields and groves ap- 
peared. It was very late, and majestically-shining 
Jupiter was inclining to the west. No one knew where 
Pa-lin-pu was, or when we would get there. 

"It is well that we are going there for the usual idle- 
ness!" Selyukov philosophized gloomily. "It would be 
bad if we were needed there." 

The half-frozen apothecary, who was much under 
the influence of liquor, crawled out from his cart. In 
his fur jacket and cap he tottered along the dusty 
road, and said, with his blundering tongue: 

"It is pleasant to travel in the cold, when you know 



250 IN THE WAR 

that ahead of you there will be tea, supper, and a warm 
bed; but this way it isn't pleasant!" 

We did not find Pa-lin-pu, and we stopped for the 
night in a village which was crowded with troops. The 
officers said that our affairs were in a good condition, 
and that the centre was not at all broken; that Nogi's 
flanking army had been thrown back with enormous 
losses; that the post-office, the auditing-office, and the 
treasury were being transported back to Hun-he-pu. 

In the morning it turned out that we were half a 
verst distant from Pa-lin-pu. We transferred our- 
selves thither. 

Day after day passed slowly. With our tents rolled 
up, and the dressing material packed in the carts, we 
stayed idle at Pa-lin-pu. Through the bluish smoke 
were outlined the walls and towers of Mukden, and 
not far away rose a tall, beautiful shrine. The vil- 
lages around the city were still intact, the groves had 
not yet been cut down. But now the farmhouses were 
again gradually looted and destroyed, and the cen- 
tury-old trees fell under the Russian axes. Again the 
Chinese, with polite, reserved faces, tried to complain 
to the officers about the soldiers' looting, but the of- 
ficers replied indifferently: 

"Pu-tunda (I do not understand)." 

"Pu-tunde?" the Chinese asked, good-naturedly, and, 
smiling, shook their heads. 

The guns thundered behind Mukden, and from there, 
in a broad semicircle to the south, bending behind us 
to the east, the baggage-trains travelled past us, in an 
endless line, to the north. Some mounted orderlies 
rode up to us. 

"Your Honor, how are we to get to San-dia-zu?'* 
"I do not know. Whereabouts is it?" 

"I can't tell. We have been commanded to take a 
report as quickly as possible to San-dia-zu." 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 251 

The soldier rode on. 

The hospital moved past us to the north. Others, 
like our own, were located, without unpacking, in the 
neighboring villages, and stood idle. Yet a terrible 
engagement was going on, and every day furnished 
thousands of wounded. Upon noticing the hospital 
flag, carts whose bodies bore the sign of the Red Cross 
drove up to us. 

"Your Honor, have you a hospital hercf^ We have 
brought some wounded." 

"We do not receive them. The hospital is not 
operating." 

"What are we to do.^^ Oh Lord! We have been 
travelling since morning, and we cannot get rid of the 
wounded." 

"Where are you from.^" 

"We are from Su-ya-tun." 

From Su-ya-tun! That was twenty versts away. 
From the carts were borne sobs and groans. The 
transport, shaking up the maimed soldiers, slowly 
moved on to find a refuge. 

A transport of stretchers on mules passed by us. 
To the cane handles of the stretchers, both in front 
and behind, a mule was hitched, and, in the stretchers, 
on their canvas tents, lay the wounded. It was a splen- 
did idea : the mules walked, quickly and evenly feeling 
the ground with their small hoofs, the stretchers 
swayed in even motion, like a boat on the calm waters. 
It was a splendid idea, but while I was watching a 
couple of mules became frightened, began to struggle, 
and broke the handle of the stretcher, and threw to 
the ground a soldier whose knee-joint had been crushed 
by a bullet. The drivers said that the mules had not 
been broken, that out of two hundred mules only a 
dozen pairs walked properly, while the rest were all 
the time starting, and breaking and overturning the 
stretchers. Besides, our drivers did not know how 



252 IN THE WAR 

to manage the mules, who were used to the Chinese 
words of command. The drivers constantly mixed up 
the commands, and ordered them to go to the right 
when they meant to turn to the left. To make matters 
worse, by a curious irony of the linguistic genius, the 
Chinese "tpru" or "tprue" signifies precisely the op- 
posite of our "tpru," the order to stop. Forgetting 
themselves, the drivers shouted, "Tpru, you devil, 
tpru !" and the mules conscientionsly started at a gal- 
lop. 

Some half-frozen soldiers came to our farmhouse to 
get warmed up and to drink tea. 

"How are things going .f^" 

"Bad ! All our marvellously fortified positions are 
now ordered to be abandoned, and we are to retreat 
beyond Hun-ho !" 

"But tell me, how did all this happen .^^ We have 
more troops than the Japanese." 

"More!" a captain of Cossacks replied, pensively. 
"More. And now our artillery is better." 

"Our infantry shoots far better than the Japanese 
infantry. The Japanese are victorious because they 
do not spare any cartridges." 

"Yes. And there is no need saying anything about 
the cavalry." 

"And yet they beat us." 

"Why.?" 

"Yes, why.?" 

Baggage-trains kept passing by, and infantry col- 
umns passed also. The ring of the cannonading bent 
more and more sharply around us. A young China- 
man from a neighboring farmhouse recalled with the 
impudent and roguish manner of a suburban dweller 
the China-Japanese War, and told us that at that 
time the Chinese troops ran from the Japanese in pre- 
cisely the same manner that the Russian troops were 
running now. 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 253 

"China soldier, Russ soldier, all le samee. Jap, puff- 
puff ! China soldier run, run! Russ soldier run, run I 
All le samee!" 

He patted us familiarly on the shoulder, he rolled 
in laughter, and pointed to the retreating columns. 
Near the millstone an old Chinaman carefully scooped 
up from the ground bits of kao-liang which had been 
scattered by our horses in feeding. I accidentally 
glanced at the old man: he was holding the scoop in 
his hand, and was peering over the clay fence at the 
troops that were moving through the dust. The China- 
man's wrinkled face was all contorted with consuming 
hatred and malicious joy. But he noticed that I was 
looking at him, and his face immediately became 
dispassionate and expressive of nothing whatso- 
ever. 

And the baggage-trains and the troops kept moving 
past. No one knew where our corps staff was. Some 
Trans-Baykal Cossacks rode up to us, some sappers 
of the postal telegraph division, some orderlies — they 
all asked where the Staff of the Corps was. 

"We do not know. We ourselves are very much in- 
terested in the matter." 

We were in doubt as to whether to move on or wait 
for orders. Maybe they had completely forgotten 
about us, and maybe there was not any need to leave. 
Our master of arms, who had gone to Mukden, told 
us upon his return that all the letter-boxes had been 
removed at the station, and that no telegrams were 
accepted. On the platform lay stacks of private pack- 
ages from Russia, which were being freely distributed 
to those who wanted them: "They will be burned 
soon, anyway!" 

To the south rose dense clouds of smoke from the 
stores of the Fu-shun branch, which had been fired 
by us. The cannon roared. The Caspian Regiment 
passed by. Two drunken, emaciated soldiers, their 



254 IN THE WAR 

eyes red from brandy, dust, and fatigue, tottered by. 

"Your Honor, where did the Petrov Regiment go 
to?" they asked, with faltering tongues. 

"I do not know. Where did you get a drink.''" 

*'We came by the stores across the branch. They 
give away everything, take all you want, alcohol, cog- 
nac, sugar, all kinds of garments." 

The baggage-trains of the Nineteenth and Twentieth 
East-Siberian Regiments passed. The baggage-trains 
were in charge of an officer. We asked him how mat- 
ters were. 

"There are only our two regiments behind us, and 
no one else. Behind them are the Japanese. Why is 
your hospital here?" 

"We have received no order to move." 

"I should advise you to break camp and get away. 
See what happened to us at Liao-yang: the hospitals 
were slow in getting away, and it became necessary 
for our regiments to cover their retreat, and so we had 
very considerable losses." 

"Tell us, please, is it true that we are giving up 
Mukden?" 

"Mukden!" the officer said, in surprise. "Don't say 
that! No, no! The Army is merely changing front! 
That's all!" 

A calm evening followed. The sun went down, and 
the west was dimly red from smoke and dust. The 
thin crescent of the new moon appeared, and be- 
neath it the evening star twinkled with a greenish light. 
The black clouds of smoke from the burning buildings 
were tinged with the evening glow. In a neighboring 
village, on the bank of the river Hun-ho, stood the 
East-Siberian Rifle Divisions of the Nineteenth and 
Twentieth Regiments. The chief surgeon rode up to 
them to take council as to what to do. The chief of 
the brigade. General Putilov, suggested that one of 
the surgeon-soldiers should stay with him, and that 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 255 

he would let us know through this soldier when we 
should leave. 

All night long enormous clouds of smoke swayed to 
the south over the burning stores. A new glow arose 
to the west and spread rapidly. In the grove near 
the neighboring village axes could be heard, chopping 
in the darkness : the riflemen were preparing an abatis. 

Next morning, February 24, guns began to thunder 
all around us, and we had the impression that we 
were completely surrounded by an enormous, thunder- 
ing, firing ring. In the neighboring village the shrap- 
nel burst in clouds, the Shimoses whined, the rifle fire 
cracked: the Japanese were crossing the river Hun-ho 
under the fire of our riflemen. 

Everybody around us was occupied with an enor- 
mous, important, mortally serious matter, but we stood 
still, without work, without aim, without sense, like 
unbidden guests who had come inopportunely. 

At eleven o'clock the soldier who had been despatched 
by us came from the neighboring village. He brought 
us General Putilov's order to break camp immediately 
and move to the north, to Hou-lin. 

We had everything ready, and our horses were under 
their collars. Fifteen minutes later we started. A 
company of soldiers came running up and took up a 
position behind the clay fences of our yard. From 
the neighboring village the slowly retreating riflemen 
appeared. Above them rose round curls of smoke. 
With a whining sound the shrapnel burst in the air. 
It looked as though a malicious herd of invisible crea- 
tures of the air were driving the riflemen before them. 

We proceeded to the north. A mad wind blew from 
the south, and in the dim air clouds of greyish-yellow 
dust whirled, so that we could not see ten steps ahead. 
Dying oxen wallowed on each side of the road, and 
broken carts, discarded fur jackets and felt boots lay 



256 IN THE WAR 

all about. The straggling soldiers walked lazily on the 
footpaths, or lay on the Chinese graves. There was 
an amazing number of drunken men among them. 

Three soldiers were walking slowly on the road. 
They were sober and emaciated. 

"What regiment .f'" 

"Irkutsk." 

"Where is your regiment .f*" 

"We do not know. We are looking for it." 

Their regiment had been stationed near the Erdshou 
crater. These three had been located in front of the 
trenches in an ambush. At night the regiment had 
been removed from the positions and they had been 
forgotten. Suddenly they discovered that the trenches 
were empty and that the troops were gone. 

More and more baggage-trains crowded on the road, 
and it became necessary to stop more frequently. 
Diagonally across from them, over the beds of the 
fields, a battalion of infantry drew near. A mounted 
officer shouted in a hoarse and angry voice to an of- 
ficer whom he met: 

"Aleksander Petrovich, where is Colonel Panov.'^" 

*'I do not know. I have not seen him for two days." 

"The devil choke them all! This is not order, but 
some kind of a bagnio! Where shall we lead the bat- 
talion.?" 

There was in the very air a sense of helplessness 
and despair. One could see that no one knew or un- 
derstood anything. 

The baggage-trains stopped completely. Over a 
cross-road the ordnance of the Trans-Baykal battery 
was hastening in an endless line to the west. Through 
the dust could be discerned the black, slender gun-bar- 
rels, the heads of the horses, the yellow cap-bands, the 
bronzed faces of the Buryat horsemen, with their slant- 
ing eyes.^ We stood still. Between the ordnance a 
dust-covered mounted officer, an orderly, crossed over 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT ^57 

to our side. He had a youthful, fatigued, and per- 
plexed face. 

"Do you know where the village Yun-shin-pu is ?" he 
asked us, hurriedly. 

"We do not." 

"Oh, there, friend! Where is Yun-shin-pu .f"' he 
shouted to a passing Chinaman. 

Without raising his head, the Chinaman continued 
to walk along the road. The officer rode up to him 
and madly swung his knout at him. The Chinaman 
started to say something and to move his arms. The 
officer galloped to one side. From under the hoofs 
of his horse the wind carried away gigantic clouds of 
yellowish dust. 

Suddenly the rapidly moving battery began to stop. 
The Buryat Cossacks checked their horses and pulled 
them to one side. The ordnance stopped. An officer 
of artillery rode by, cursing in a loud voice. 

"We are again ordered to go back!" he said, turn- 
ing to us strangers, and madly gesticulating. ^' Would 
you believe it? All we have been doing since morning 
is to flop from one side to another: now we are sent 
to Mukden, and now we are ordered to turn back!" 

In the opposite direction the ordnance again flashed 
in the dust, and the dusky faces of the Bury ats with 
their flat noses could be seen bobbing about. 

The road was cleared and we moved ahead. We 
went on and on. The guns roared on all sides, and be- 
hind us and to the right the frequent rifle discharges 
cracked. 

About two o'clock we arrived in Hou-lin, but we 
could not even think of stopping here. Everything 
was rapidly taken up and moved to the north. On a 
mountain slope, which was covered with enormous ce- 
dars and firs, we rested for half an hour, in order to 
have a meal. From the road clouds of dust scudded 
through the trees, and the flame from our fires bent 



^58 IN THE WAR 

earthward. Above us, over the fir-trees, the white flags 
with the Red Cross flapped at the spot where the dress- 
ing stations of the Novocherkask Regiment and a di- 
vision lazaretto were located. Blood-stained wounded 
men stirred, groaned, died. There were no convey- 
ances in which to move them, and they lay in rows. 
Beyond the mountain the rifle fire resounded feverishly 
and bullets hummed through the firs. On the top 
of the mountain one could see the Novocherkask 
soldiers running back, and falling wounded or dead, 
and after them the Japanese advancing in extended 
chains. 

To move on! To move on! Like the wandering 
Jew, without work, not wanted by anybody, we moved 
on with dozens of carts that were loaded with useless 
"government property." How could we think of 
abandoning all that truck and putting into the carts 
the maimed men upon whom the shrapnel would soon 
fall! We should have to be responsible for the lost 
property. The rifle fire came nearer and grew louder. 
The wounded were agitated, raised themselves on their 
elbows, and listened in terror. 

And we moved on. 

It was a wide Chinese road, overgrown on either 
side with bushes. The wagons moved through the dust- 
clouds in close array. At the edge of the road, near 
three farmhouses, a number of men were crowded to- 
gether, and wagons kept coming and going. Those 
were the commissary stores. They had not been moved 
away in time, and, rather than burn them, they were 
freely distributed to the passing troops. Our chief 
surgeon and supervisor drove up and took away some 
oats and preserves. 

"Would you like to have a keg of brandy?" a com- 
missary official asked. 

Davydov's eyes burned with eagerness, and he wa- 
vered. But the supervisor emphatically forbade it, on 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 259 

the ground that he did not want his detachment to 
become drunk on the march. 

Our baggage-train moved on. The soldiers secretly 
cursed the supervisor for having refused the brandy. 

Near an enormous keg of liquor, with the lid broken 
in, stood a commissary official and distributed dipper- 
fuls of the liquor to any one who wanted it. 

"Take it, boys ! As much as you can ! I'll have to 
burn it, anyway!" 

The soldiers, with dusty, worn faces, crowded 
around him. They presented their fur caps to him, 
and he filled them to the brim with liquor, which the 
soldiers carried away, holding the caps carefully by 
the edges. They immediately put their lips to them 
and drank eagerly, without taking breath. Then they 
shook out the caps and merrily proceeded on their 
way. 

We fell in with more and more tottering, beastly- 
drunk soldiers. They lost their rifles, shouted songs, 
and fell down and rolled in the dust. The bushes 
were filled with motionless bodies. Three artillerymen, 
waving their arms, were walking over the beds of 
the fields with bunches of kao-liang. 

Who were these commissary officials ? Traitors, who 
had been bought by the Japanese .^^ Scoundrels who 
wished to enjoy the complete disgrace of the Russian 
Army.? Oh, no! They were only good-natured Rus- 
sians, who could not comprehend the idea of personally 
putting fire to such a precious thing as liquor. All 
the subsequent days, during the period of the grievous 
retreat, our Army swarmed with drunken men. It was 
as though they were celebrating a joyous, universal 
holiday. It was rumored that in Mukden and in the 
villages Chinamen who had been bought by Japanese 
emissaries had been filling our war-worn, retreating 
soldiers with the devilish Chinese liquor, han-shin. 
Maybe that was so. But all the drunken soldiers 



260 IN THE WAR 

whom I asked told me that they had received brandy, 
liquor, or cognac from all kinds of Russian stores 
which had been ordered to be burned. What was the 
use for the Japanese to waste money on the China- 
men? They had a more faithful and more disinter- 
ested confederate, and one that was more terrible to 
us, that dark confederate with whom the Commander- 
in-Chief struggled in vain with his documents, a con- 
federate who constantly destroyed our telegraph and 
telephone connections, who carried off the most im- 
portant parts of our railway construction, and sys- 
tematically disseminated a fierce hatred toward us 
amidst the peaceful local inhabitants. 

We proceeded over sandy, wood-covered hills until 
darkness fell. The rumbling of the cannon barely 
reached us now from the dim distance. 

Near the road a prosperous Chinese farm, sur- 
rounded by a stone-wall, rose on a hill in the forest. 
We stopped there for the night. All the farmhouses 
were already crowded with officers and soldiers. We 
had to locate ourselves in a dark barn with sliding 
doors. 

The faces of our acquaintances, gaunt, greenish- 
grey from dust, looked strange and unfamiliar. Our 
shoulders hung loosely, and we did not feel like stir- 
ring. There was no water, not only with which to 
wash, but not even for making tea: the units which 
had arrived earlier had drained the brook completely. 
With great difficulty we procured one-fourth of a 
bucket of some liquid mud, and this we boiled, and, 
pouring tea leaves into it, drank for tea. 

Two officers of our acquaintance came up to us. 

"How do matters stand .?" 

They moved their arms in despair. 

"The troops are everywhere on the run, and the 
Japanese are pressing on all sides. To-day they have 
occupied Mukden." 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT ^61 

"To-day! Excuse me, to-day is the twenty- fourth 
of February!" I exclaimed. 

We looked at each other in surprise; it was a week 
ago that the Japanese had invited the Russians to 
Mukden on the twenty-fifth for "Shrove- tide dump- 
lings !" Of course, that was only a coincidence, but 
a superstitious tremor passed through our souls. 

Assistant Supervisor Bruk hastily entered the room, 
holding a white sheet over his head. 

"Gentlemen, to-day's number of the Messenger of 
the Manclmrian Army,^^ 

We eagerly seized the sheet. 

Here it still lies before me — I have preserved it — 
that historical sheet which left the printing-press dur- 
ing the universal flight of the Russian Army, the num- 
ber of the twenty-fourth of February, 1905 (Nos. 201, 
S02). 

"To-day the attacks of the Japanese on Niu-sin-tun 
have been repelled, and our troops have themselves as- 
sumed the offensive. At San-tai-dzy five attacks have 
been repelled. The losses of the enemy are very great, 
and this evening they have perceptibly fallen back. 
This morning the last party of Japanese has been 
driven out of the village Yun-huan-tun. The Com- 
mander of the Corps, in the name of the Commander- 
in-Chief, expresses his thanks to the Army. Accord- 
ing to the observations of our volunteer scouts, the 
Japanese baggage-trains are retreating southward. 
The troops are in good spirits, and are boiling tea, 
in expectation of an attack. The Japanese, almost 
shot to pieces, have retreated. A stubborn engage- 
ment has been taking place since on the positions in 
the neighborhood of Fand-zia-tun. In that region and 
in the reserves of the war positions, several of our 
regimental bands are playing. The attitude of the 
troops is one of calm and merriment." 

The next number of the Messenger did not ap- 



262 IN THE WAR 

pear; the printing-press was abandoned, and the edi- 
tors only saved themselves by a hasty flight, but up 
to the last minute, to the last number, they insisted 
that everything with us was in a splendid condition, 
and they did not betray by even a word that our posi- 
tions had been surrendered to the Japanese, that the 
stores had been burned, and that Mukden was being 
abandoned. 

Best of all is the ending of the number — a vignette, 
and, after it, with literal correctness, the following: 

"Lo, the mountain summits 
In the darkness sleep; 
Quietly the valleys 
Rest in freshness deep; 
Dustless is the road now, 
Motionless each tree — 
Wait but for a moment. 
Rest will come to thee! 

"These verses are given in the translation of our 
great Russian poet, the lieutenant of the Tengin In- 
fantry Regiment, Mikhail Yurevich Lermontov, who 
was killed in 1841, while in action — a man of military 
valor, with a true Russian soul." 

Period. That's all. What is this? What for? 
What is its meaning? 

Everybody roared. Next morning, during the re- 
treat, everybody repeated this doggerel, a pendant to 
the above, and improvised by a young Cossack stand- 
ard-bearer : 

"Quiet is the road now. 
Merged is all in sleep. 
Only furious Nogi 
Does to Harbin creep. 
Few of us are living, 
All are on the run. 
Japee, stop a moment. 
Stop your noisy fun!" 

We froze all night in the cold barn. I hardly closed 
my eyes, and dozed off but for a few moments. As 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 26S 

soon as day began to break all arose and got ready. 
The farmyard was filled with carts. To avoid con- 
fusion, the senior officer arranged the order of the 
march for the units at the start. Our baggage-train 
was the last to move. 

In the grey dawn cart after cart drove out upon 
the road. It was still a long way off for our turn. 
We drank tea, and went with Shantser to the farm- 
house where the officers were sleeping. It was already 
empty. We sat down on the oven bed. The golden 
yellow mattings which were spread on it were still 
warm and it was warm in the farmhouse, I lay down 
on the matting and put my cap under my head. The 
thoughts in my head became mixed and slowly merged 
into' a warm, soft mist. 

Shantser awoke me. I told him that I would sleep 
until my time came to leave, and that he had better 
send for me then. Half an hour later I awoke, re- 
freshed and invigorated. I went out into the yard. 
Beyond the spreading fir-trees gleamed a red glow, 
and it was quite light. Over the deserted yards of 
the farm the old Chinese landlord walked slowly and 
softly. 

"Your Honor, Your Honor!" I heard the breath- 
less and excited voice of my orderly. 

I answered, and he came running up to me. 

*'Go quickly ! Everybody is going away ! The Japa- 
nese cavalry has attacked us from behind!" 

We ran back of the farm, where our baggage-train 
was located for the night. The near and repeated 
crackling of rifles could be heard. Having become ac- 
customed to it formerly, I paid it no attention. How 
was this.f^ How did the Japanese manage to get here? 

Our wagons rolled out into the road one after the 
other, Shantser and the chief surgeon, on horseback, 
stood at the top of the hill and watched. I mounted 
my horse and galloped up to them. The rising sun 



264 IN THE WAR 

with its slanting rays lit up the yellowish grey plain, 
over which galloped strange-looking horsemen, with 
bands on their caps. They flitted across the road over 
which we had reached the farmhouse last night. On 
the road could be seen through the dust the Russian 
carts, and the soldiers with a lost expression on 
their faces, urging on the horses. Beyond the hill 
frequent rifle discharges resounded, and cannon 
boomed. 

We turned about and rode behind our baggage- 
train. The road wound along the foot of the moun- 
tain, which was covered with dense forests. Over the 
trees whitish puff's of smoke arose, and the sound of 
the bursting shrapnel could be heard. A second, a 
third puff^ of smoke, and the shrapnel began to burst 
more frequently, more evenly over the forest. 

The carts drove madly along the road, and the in- 
fantrymen ran through the bushes. In the yard of a 
farmhouse near the road pale foot-soldiers were bus- 
tling, hastily putting on their bags, and attaching the 
pots with trembling hands. From the farmhouse came 
an officer with his cap perched on the back of his 
head. 

"What is this?" he shouted angrily at the soldiers. 

"Your Honor, everybody is leaving!" 

"Leaving .P Let them leave I We will fight! Atten- 
tion!" 

The carts rushed on. The road was crowded, and 
a part of the wagons had to turn aside and drive 
over the fields across the beds. From the forest an 
artillery park rushed upon our road. The double 
green caissons had three pairs of horses attached to 
each of them, and the drivers lashed the horses furi- 
ously over their lathered sides. The caissons flew past, 
thundering with their enormous iron wheels. The ar- 
tillerymen galloped as though the road ahead of them 
were free, whereas it was full of carts. 



THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 265 

"Stop, you devils! Where are you trying to go?" 
we shouted angrily at the artillerymen. 

But they rushed on, overturning the carts. Above 
the whirling wagons suddenly was heard a mad cry, 
which just as suddenly stopped: the shaft of the 
powder cart, at full speed, hit the head of a soldier 
who was holding back his cart on a slope, and he 
rolled under the iron wheels with a split skull. The 
park rushed on. 

Now here, now there, a wagon was overturned. The 
soldiers cut the harness, mounted the horses, and gal- 
loped away. The eyes in the pale faces were enormous, 
senseless, dull. 

And to the right of us, over a broad, steep ravine, 
a long column of soldiers marched to a counter at- 
tack of the bursting shrapnel. The slanting rays of 
the morning sun glided down the ravine, and the sol- 
diers walked with their caps turned inside out, their 
rifles in their hands, their faces stern and serious. Be- 
hind, from a ditch, the bayonets of the reserves could 
be seen. 

So there were some defenders! Everybody felt re- 
lieved. The panic subsided. The carts hurried on, 
but the senseless expression disappeared from the faces, 
the eyes began to look human. 

The road turned to the right and went through a 
large Chinese village. The wooded hills, where the 
discharges were heard, were left behind. 

Suddenly a stop. The carts in the rear began to 
stop, one after the other. What had happened .^^ 

We rode ahead. The artillery stood right across 
the road. 

"Can't you drive a little to one side, so as to make 
a passage for the carts .?" the ofScers of the baggage- 
train asked. 

The lieutenant-colonel of artillery surveyed us 
haughtily and with indifference. 



^66 IN THE WAR 

"I can't. I am waiting for orders." 

Everybody stood still for about ten minutes. Ahead 
of the ordnance the road was free. 

"Have you heard .^ The carts which were travelling 
behind us have all been captured by the Japanese!" 

Again a feeling of nervousness was observable in 
the baggage-train. The artillerymen stood immovable, 
and with quiet, laughing eyes looked at the agitated 
baggage-train. At last the lieutenant-colonel gave an 
order. The battery drove up a hill and began to place 
the ordnance. The baggage-train started again. 

The guns stood a little while on the hill. Suddenly 
we saw them again hitched to the limbers, and the bat- 
tery left the hill and made its way into the very midst 
of the baggage-train. 

"They have done their fighting! They have 
enough!" the men of the baggage-train said, laughing. 

In the distance, over the fields, a dense greyish-yel- 
low streak of dust, disappearing into the sky, moved 
from the south to the north. That was the Mandarin 
Road, choked with the retreating troops. 



CHAPTER VIII 



ON THE MANDARIN B-OAD 



The baggage-train moved slowly over the broad road in 
a dense, close line. Wagons, two-wheeled carts, ord- 
nance and powder carts crowded together like blocks 
of ice during the breaking of the river. They stopped 
slowly, and then moved slowly on. The pungent, yel- 
lowish-grey dust rose in whirls, and hoarse shouts and 
curses could be heard. 

Our baggage-train stood at the edge of the road 
and was not able to get on it. The carts moved on in 
uninterrupted succession, and those behind hurried to 
follow those in front, so as not to give us a chance to 
come in between. 

"Oh, there ! Stop your horses !" our supervisor 
shouted in a threatening, authoritative voice to a sol- 
dier of one of the baggage-trains. 

The soldier looked up, laughed, and whipped up his 
horse. The wagon rolled past, and after it came other 
carts, hurriedly and zealously pressing close to one 
another. But one of them was not on the look-out 
and fell back a few feet from the one in front. The 
driver of our first cart started up, whipped up his 
horses furiously, and rolled into the road. His whip 
snapped with a swish over the heads of the horses 
which were pressing on in the rear. Our wagons, 
one after the other, rolled rapidly into the road, and 
the drivers, with evil and triumphant faces, slashed 
the heads of the horses that were rearing behind, in 
the attempt to cut off our horses. Everybody was 
shouting and cursing. 

267 



268 IN THE WAR 

It was a clear, warm, breezy day. On each side ex- 
tended the greyish-yellow fields with their beds. The 
carts, ten or twelve deep, slowly moved over the road. 
Over the foot-paths, at the edge of the road, wandered 
irregular crowds of soldiers of the line and rode of- 
ficers, Cossacks, and soldiers of the baggage-train, on 
their horses with their cut traces. In the thick of the 
procession our baggage-train was constantly dis- 
rupted, and it was now travelling in three separate 
parts. They were amazingly quickly lost from sight. 
If you happened to lose a minute in conversation, and 
then looked around, you could not see the familiar 
carts. Gigantic wagons, drawn by six horses, passed 
by with their black pontoons. Chinese two-wheeled 
carts with the Red Cross flag rattled by. You gallop 
ahead, you gallop back — nowhere a familiar face, no- 
where a familiar cart. You ride along, having aban- 
doned all hope of finding anybody — suddenly by your 
side you see a cart of your hospital, and you hear a 
familiar voice. 

The torrent of carts, wrapped in dust, slowly moved 
on, stopped, stood still, again began to move. At 
narrow turns of the road, when entering a village, 
or near the bridges, the confusion became intolerable. 
Ten rows of carts could not get by at once, and they 
hurried on, and tried to cut each other out, came 
in conflict, and were in each other's way. The red, 
savage faces flashed through the dust, and the sound 
of blows, the swish of whips, and hoarse curses could 
be heard. As always, the authorities, forever annoy- 
ingly present where they are not needed, were absent 
here. No one in command gave orders, and the carts 
struggled and blocked the way in hopeless confusion. 
Other carts pressed on in the rear; the jam was ter- 
rible, and the whole torrent came to a stop at the very 
horizon. 

New baggage-trains kept pouring from the cross- 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 269 

roads into the Mandarin Road. In the rear the can- 
non thundered in a broad semicircle, and the rifle dis- 
charges rattled. A Siberian sharp-shooter, with a 
blood-stained bandage on his arm, was walking over 
the kao-liang beds towards the road. 

"Are you straight from the battle-field?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Well, how about the Japs?" 

He waved his arms. 

"They keep pressing on, an endless number of 
them !" 

A covered canvas cart came by, and in it lay a 
wounded officer. His face was completely covered with 
bandages, so that only the opening of his mouth could 
be seen. The bandages were wet and looked like a 
blood-red mask, through which the blood was oozing. 
By his side sat another wounded officer, pale from 
the loss of blood. Saddened and feeble, he held on 
his knees his comrade's bloody head. The two-wheeled 
cart shook and swayed, and the bloody head bobbed 
impotently, as though lifeless. 

Through the dusk, in a mass of moving carts, flashed 
the familiar face of a woman. It was immeasurably 
worn, pale, with black rings around the eyes. I recog- 
nized Sister Kamenev, the wife of the artillery officer. 
She was travelling alone in her buggy, without a coach- 
man. She sat sideways, and on the floor of the buggy 
there lay something large and bulky, covered with an 
oil-cloth. 

I made my way between the carts to Sister Kamenev 
and greeted her. 

'^Are you alone?" 

"Yes," she answered, with a voice as if from another 
world. 

Her large dark eyes were fixed and stared out from 
the black circles. "I ordered a coffin in Mukden, you 
know, and wanted to take him to a train in order to 



270 IN THE WAR 

send him to Russia. The coffin did not come in time, 
and they would not take him on the train without it. 
They did not take him. They were abandoning the 
station." 

Suddenly I understood; that large, bulky thing 
which was lying under the oil-cloth on the floor of 
the buggy was her husband. The breeze blew from 
the buggy the oppressive odor of decaying flesh. 

"Varvara Fedorovna, what is to be done.? Have 
the body buried here. I'll arrange it for you. You 
cannot take it along!" 

She stared at me in strange surprise. 

*'No, I will take him along. If I leave him here, I 
will go crazy, anyway." 

"Your Honor ! Mr. Doctor !" a soldier cried from 
the other side of the road, as he noticed through the 
dust my white band with the Red Cross. He motioned 
to me and asked me to come to him. 

I made my way through the stream of carts. Near 
the side of the road lay a soldier with dull eyes and 
a pale, contorted face. By his side stood another sol- 
dier with a bandage over his head. 

"Mr. Doctor! Do help him! This is simply hor- 
rible ! The man has a bullet wound in his belly and 
nobody wants to pick him up ! Is he to die here like 
a dog.^" 

I dismounted and examined the wounded man. The 
injured abdomen was covered with a bandage, and 
the pulse was barely beating. 

"See what a lot of carts are going by, and they're 
all loaded to the top ! Just look ! A whole wagon 
filled with felt boots! And is he to be left here? Felt 
boots are worth more than a human life!" 

What was to be done? We stopped the carts and 
begged them to throw down a part of their load and 
take up the wounded man. The drivers answered, 
"We dare not do so!" The officers in charge of the 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 271 

baggage-trains said, "We have no right to do so!" 
They agreed to place the wounded man on top of a 
load. The wounded man held on to the ropes as long 
as he could, but he lost his strength and rolled off. 

Carts passed. Men with guilty faces drove by, try- 
ing not to look at the prostrate man. I thought of 
how they had eagerly inquired whether any one in the 
rear was defending us, whether there was a screen be- 
hind us. There men were struggling, saving us, just 
like this dying man. Now he was useless and wallow- 
ing in the dust near the road, and all tried to pass by 
as quickly as possible, so that the sad reproach which 
looked from the dim eyes might not burn them. 

I had a few opium powders in my pocket. I gave 
one to the wounded man and poured some cognac from 
a flask into his mouth. What else could be done for 
him? 

Softly, like a thief, I mounted my horse and rode on. 

An overturned two-wheeled cart, loaded with rifles, 
was lying in the dust. Bags filled with oats and rice 
were scattered about. Dying horses, with enormously 
bloated bellies, were rubbing their long heads over the 
ground. Disorderly crowds of infantrymen sauntered 
by with their rifles leisurely swaying on their backs, 
and Cossacks rushed past on their horses. In the 
sunlit distance the guns roared like dull claps of 
thunder. 

An oflicer of dragoons whom I knew drove up to us. 

"Well, Captain, how do matters stand there.''" 

"An absolute defeat, absolute ! Our men are run- 
ning like rabbits ! Let a handful of Japanese ap- 
pear on the hill, and the whole regiment is on the 
run !" 

Sturdy Cossacks passed by us, their caps poised 
jauntily on their heads; they looked funny in their 
bravado. One felt a sense of shame as one looked at 



m^ IN THE WAR 

the bayonets of the infantrymen, as they gleamed in 
the dust — they were now so harmless and so pitiful! 
And the leisurely sauntering, awkward soldiers, too, 
looked pitiful and harmless. 

From their dust-covered faces peered embarrassed, 
perplexed eyes. 

"Your Honor, is it true that five powers are fighting 
against us.^^" 

I drew aside. 

"No, only one!" 

"Not at all, sir, fi\Q^ powers. We know it for sure. 
How could one get so many troops.'* They press on 
in countless numbers! Five powers, sure!" 

"What five.?" 

"Japan, China, America, England, then — ^what do 
they call it? — ^what is the name of the country that 
lies at our left flank.'*" 

"Korea.?" 

"That's it ! Five powers !" 

The carts were crowding down the slope towards 
the bridge. The artillery park was pushing the 
carts aside, and the wheels of the wagons were rum- 
bling. The mounted artillerymen urged on the horses, 
and they were prepared to cut right across. 

"Countrymen, go more slowly ! You will crush us !" 
shouted a soldier of the baggage-train. 

"Ride them down!" yelled an artilleryman, who was 
sitting on the box of the powder cart. 

A lieutenant-colonel of infantry rode up to him. 

"You son-of-a-b ! How dare you command 

here.? Stand still! Where are you rushing.?" 

The artilleryman's eyes glistened impudently and 
maliciously. 

"Where.? Just where you are rushing!" 

Threatening fires flashed in the eyes of the lieuten- 
ant-colonel, but something more threatening and more 
terrible flashed in the soldier's eyes. I suddenly felt 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 273 

that that which but two days ago had been difficult 
even to imagine had now become possible and easy. 
And the lieutenant-colonel, too, felt it. 

"Move on, boys ! Don't stop !" 

The mounted artillerymen struck the horses and the 
park cut into the baggage-train. The whips snapped, 
the powder carts, one after another, drove over the 
bridge. Pale with anger, the lieutenant-colonel looked 
on in silence. 

On and on, slowly and spasmodically, the endless 
stream of carts crept. At the edge of the road there 
sat a weary musician, with an enormous, shining horn 
over his shoulder. A shaggy white Chinese pony with 
a wrenched hind leg was tugging at the reins. Arch- 
ing its back, the pony leaped about pitifully on three 
legs. In front a soldier was pulling it by the rein, 
and behind it another was driving it with a stick. The 
pony reacted little to the strokes, so the soldier hit 
it over the painful part of the leg. Then the pony, 
arching its back even more, began to leap about rap- 
idly. 

"Why don't you abandon her.?" I said to the soldier. 

"I should like to, for she has worn me out, but I have 
been commanded to bring her up." 

Again the carts and men were lost from sight, and 
again they were unexpectedly met with. Everybody 
I had met in the last six months in Manchuria was 
here. It was all like an endless Nevski Prospekt, with 
an enormous, strange crowd, in which one every mo- 
ment discerned some familiar faces. 

Two officers of sappers from our corps rode up. 
The young lieutenant laughed maliciously and rubbed 
his hands in glee. 

"Have you heard.? All the baggage of our Corps 
Commander has fallen into the hands of the Japanese," 
he informed me. "Oh, how glad I am ! The scoundrel ! 
He ran away, and did not let anybody know about 



274 IN THE WAR 

the retreat I We lost all our baggage through him! 
All that is left is what we have on us!" 

"So they did not let you know?" I said, laughingly. 
*'We, too, went off without being informed." 

"That's nothing! Just hear what happened yester- 
day! A Cossack brought the report that the Japa- 
nese were at Fu-lin. The commander of the corps 
laughed: *Bosh!' and ordered us to take the telegraph 
to Fu-lin. There the staff of our army was located. 
We went with our telegraph company. Hellish firing! 
The commander of the company sent me to the com- 
mander of the corps, and I told him that the Japanese 
were at Fu-lin, and that they were firing at us from 
there. The commander of the corps listened to my 
report. 'Are they firing?' And he looked venomously 
at me. 'Lieutenant, that's what war is for, that they 
should be shooting. Go and take the telegraph to 
Fu-lin!' We laid the line. We were warmed up with 
shrapnel. Past us rode a captain with his Cossacks. 
'What are you doing here?' said he. 'Get away just 
as quickly as you can! The Japanese are coming!' I 
galloped to the staff — there the ant-hill was already 
broken up. Everybody was mounting a horse. I hur- 
ried to the chief of the staff : 'What do you command 
us to do with the cable? Shall we take it down?' 'I 
don't know. I don't know. Do as you please! Only 
I advise you to get away as quickly as possible !' 'Can't 
you give us any protection?' 'No, no, I can't! Do the 
best you can! Good-bye!' Then they all galloped 
away !" 

The lieutenant's companion, a corpulent and mus- 
tachioed staff captain, was keeping solemn silence. The 
lieutenant moved with animation in his saddle, and kept 
laughing. 

"We have got the, cable, but all of the captain's 
pontoons are in the hands of the Japanese. The pon- 
toon battalion was ordered to go to cover at Hun-ho 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 275 

as though it were a body of infantry. They retreated, 
and there were all the pontoons ! 'Why didn't you get 
away ?' 'We had no orders !' So they abandoned the 
pontoons, and merely took away the horses. I tell you 
it was an awful confusion! They all lost their heads, 
upon my word ! You only imagine that they have their 
heads, but in reality they have left them behind." 

Drunken men were wallowing at each side of the 
road. A soldier would be sitting on a mound, his 
rifle between his knees, his head drooping. If you 
touched him on his shoulder, he would roll down like 
a bag. Was he dead.^^ Was he sleeping a deep sleep 
from fatigue .f' His pulse was beating, his face was 
red, and he exhaled an odor of liquor. 

Another was tottering along the road, his rifle swing- 
ing over his shoulder. 

"Countryman, where did you get something to 
drink.?" 

"The Cossacks gave me some ! May God give them 
health for it ! I saw them as they were riding and 
they were all drunk. Said I to them, 'Won't you give 
a cupful to a soldier.?' 'A cupful.? Take a tumbler- 
ful — ^we don't care! We have just cleaned out a 
Chinese hanshin distillery!' I drank a tumblerful. 
It was miserable stuffs, but I swallowed it. After I 
had drunk it warmth passed through my veins, and 
my hand stretched out by itself for another tumbler- 
ful. The main thing, I didn't have to pay for it. 
He was a fine fellow!" 

On one wagon sat a non-commissioned ofiicer with 
a smiling face, who sold from a large wooden box bot- 
tles of cognac, rum, and port wine, at fifty kopeks a 
bottle. He had seized the box in the stores of the 
Red Cross, which had been consigned to the flames. 

It was warm, and my head was in a whirl from fa- 
tigue. The carts entered a large Chinese village. 
Chinamen stood near the farmhouses blinking from 



276 IN THE WAR 

the bright sunlight and the dust, and looking at the 
retreating troops with dispassionate, inexpressive 
eyes. 

"Your Honor ! Your Honor !" 

On a mound a soldier of our detachment was waving 
his arms at me. 

"Please come to this alley. Our men have stopped 
there." 

In a clearing back of the farmhouses, on the bank 
of a brook, the two hospitals, Sultanov's and ours, 
were bivouacking. A few institutions of our corps 
were also stationed there, together with our Corps 
Commander. 

Fires were burning, and the soldiers were heating 
water for tea, and warming their canned food. We 
learned from the surgeons of Sultanov's hospital that 
they, too, had been doing nothing since leaving M., 
and had been stationed with everything packed to the 
south of Mukden. But the staff of the corps, to be 
sure, had not forgotten to inform them of the retreat. 
Sultanov, yellow in the face, shrunken, surly, was sit- 
ting on his camp-stool, and Novitskaya was putting 
some sugar into his coffee. We had something to 
eat, and drank tea. Dust stood in clouds above the 
street. The carts creaked, and curses were heard. 
Behind the village there was an old, narrow bridge 
across a brook, and the carts fought for their turn 
to get across. 

A detachment of Cossacks rode by. 

"You are resting yourselves here in vain! The 
Japanese are beyond the hill!" they said, with un- 
concern. 

That was incredible, for we had retreated a con- 
siderable distance. None the less, nervous haste made 
its appearance. The men hurriedly finished the feed- 
ing of the horses and tied up the carts. 

Our commander found a ford near our clearing, and 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD ^77 

he determined the order in which the carts were to 
cross. Sultanov's hospital was first, although his usu- 
ally came after ours. 

Sultanov's baggage-train crossed the brook and 
drove over the ploughed fields to the Mandarin Road. 
Ours started. The slope towards the brook was steep 
and the rise on the other side was still steeper. The 
horses stretched their backs and slipped, the whips 
swished, the soldiers, taking hold of the carts, dragged 
them up with the horses. 

Behind our baggage-train there was already a dense 
mass of other carts, and an endless line of wagons kept 
crossing the narrow bridge. 

Suddenly, beyond the brook, in a field near a Chinese 
cemetery, an enormous column of yellowish-grey smoke 
arose silently in the air, and then a short, dull thud 
was heard. I looked about me in perplexity. What 
was that? A new column of smoke arose amidst the 
trees of the cemetery, the twigs flew into the air, the 
branches fell down. I had not yet become conscious 
of what had taken place when the terror which sud- 
denly seized everything about me made matters clear 
to me. 

Beyond the brook the carts, leaping, flew over the 
beds of the fields, and the soldiers, leaning forward, 
madly whipped up the horses. Below, near the ford, 
men, horses, and carts were struggling in wild con- 
fusion. Everything around us was furiously rush- 
ing somewhere. 

A deafening noise was heard near the slope leading 
to the bridge. From the smoke rushed forward a horse 
with broken shafts. An artillery park flew by, over- 
turning wagons. A man was flung from the box to the 
ground. His outstretched arm fell under the wheels. 
He turned a somersault in the dust, raised himself to 
his knees, was knocked down by the flying horses, and 
once more rolled under the wheels. 



278 IN THE WAR 

Another projectile burst, and still another. A 
breathless voice shouted: 

"Mishka, cut the traces!" 

The voice penetrated the terrified souls like an au- 
thoritative command which must be obeyed without 
reasoning. The soldiers hurriedly cut the cart traces, 
leaped on the horses, and galloped away at full speed 
to the other side. Others did not think of riding, but 
simply let the horses run away, and started back them- 
selves on foot. 

"Scoundrels ! Where are you running? Are you 
running after the rabble of the baggage-train? Go 
back to your places !" a hoarse, despairing voice cried 
out amidst the general confusion. 

A lieutenant of artillery on horseback was whirhng 
with his drawn sword amidst the ordnance, which had 
got stuck in the midst of the baggage-train. The 
gun squad paid no attention, but kept on cutting the 
traces. 

"What are you doing there? What are you doing 
there ?" 

The lieutenant swung his sword and struck a sol- 
dier on the shoulder. The soldier drew back, silently 
ducked his head, and ran down the incline. The lean, 
lank captain of artillery, with pale face and enormous 
eyes, sat immovable on his horse. He understood that 
nothing could be done now. 

On a hill a Shimose glistened with a thundering 
noise and bespattered us with clay. The artillerymen 
hurriedly mounted the horses and galloped away. I 
rode after them. The lieutenant dropped his sword 
and covered his face with his hands. 

Near the slope of the ford, abandoned carts, men 
and horses were mingled in wild confusion. The ar- 
tillery lieutenant dashed by on the high bank. His 
face was red, his lips mumbled something unintelligible, 
his eyes glistened with a madman's fire. In senseless 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 279 

flight he rushed along the brook in the direction of the 
bursting shrapnel, and his spurs madly tore the flanks 
of his horse. I rode up on the further bank. Beyond 
the brook, alone amidst the abandoned ordnance, the 
lean artillery captain was still sitting immovable on 
his horse. He had something in his hand. He raised 
his arm, and near his head there was a little flash, — and 
the captain fell like a heavy bag to the ground from 
the back of the startled horse. 

The air was filled with shrapnel smoke. Some sol- 
diers ran tottering over the fields, while others gal- 
loped on horses with the traces dragging in the dust. 
All eyes peered senselessly into the distance, or rolled 
senselessly from side to side. Enormous wagons with 
black pontoons rushed by. A heavily laden cart with 
the Red Cross dashed along, and a pale soldier on the 
box whipped the horses madly up a steep incline, where 
the cart was bound to be overturned. Indeed, the cart 
ran up the incline and, as though having prepared 
itself beforehand, flew into the ravine. 

But how did the Japanese get there? Later, much 
later, we found out: two or three Japanese guns had 
galloped, with mad daring, through the open space 
which had formed itself for a distance of several versts, 
had taken up a position on the hill without any cover, 
and had opened fire on the ford. And all this mass 
of armed men started to run and hundreds of thousands 
of rubles' worth of property was destroyed. 

The brook and the bursting shrapnel were already 
far behind us, but the wagons were stiU dashing on- 
ward. They kept throwing heavy articles from the 
carts, so as to lighten the load. Something had sud- 
denly happened, and our relations to "property" had 
strangely changed. Formerly the men had been afraid 
to throw a couple of worn horse collars from the wag- 
ons in order to make room for a wounded man, but 



280 IN THE WAR 

now they readily discarded whole bales of soldiers' 
cloaks, bags with provender and food, officers' trunks, 
and baskets. Frequently they threw away things with- 
out any need whatsoever. There Was something pa- 
thetic and hopelessly elemental in all this. It was as 
if the abandoned property, though unheard by their 
consciousness, were whispering to their souls, "More 
or less, it's all the same now — ^no one will ask about 
it!" 

We were already five versts beyond the brook, and 
the carts were travelling at their customary gait. A 
powder cart which had strayed from its park was 
among them. Suddenly the soldier who was sitting 
on the box shouted to the mounted artillerymen: 

"Stop!" 

They stopped. The soldier dismounted leisurely, 
pulled out a little box from behind, and fetched from 
it a wooden spoon and an eighth of tobacco. 

"We have had enough trouble! It will do! Boys, 
take off the traces !" 

The traces were taken off, the artillerymen mounted 
the horses, and, abandoning the powder cart, rode on 
at their ease. 

It was as though a superior counted for nothing. 
Mine became somebody else's, and somebody else's be- 
came mine. The moment a cart was overturned the 
soldiers started to loot it. From all sides there ap- 
peared human jackals, who scented prey. I was told 
later that the marauders purposely caused false alarms 
in the night, in order to loot the carts during the 
confusion. During the panic of baggage-trains at 
Pu-he two Cossacks started to break open the treasure- 
box of the pontoon park. The sergeant shot one Cos- 
sack, wounded the other, and carried off the box. 

The rapacious looting, which had been practised on 
the helpless Chinese, now burst forth with hissing, sul- 
phureous fires, and spread through our own Army. 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 281 

The eyes burned, and needless things were seized. 
These were thrown away, and other things were 
grabbed. 

And shame disappeared. 

A laughing soldier, dangling his legs, was riding a 
horse with cut traces. Jauntily perching his cap on 
his head, he said: 

"The Japs drove us from the positions, and I ran 
and ran! I joined the hospital, and marched with it. 
They attacked the hospital with shrapnel, and I ran 
again. I saw a cart standing with its horses. I cut 
the traces, mounted a horse, and rode off. On the road 
I picked up a bag filled with hardtack, and some 
canned goods, and some oats for the horse. And now 
I'm riding famously." 

Broken-down horses and shattered carts were lying 
about everywhere. The road was covered thickly 
with abandoned fur jackets, bales, and muskets. Dis- 
orderly crowds of ragged soldiers were sauntering 
about, and it was hard to believe that but lately all 
these had formed orderly columns of troops. 

"Your Honor, what is this?" the soldiers asked. 
"They are driving us just as we drove the French in 
the year 1812." 

"I think that Russia's lucky star has gone down 
forever," said a foppish corporal, whose face and 
voice betrayed that he had been a clerk. 

An elderly soldier with a shaggy beard replied 
gloomily : 

"Mother Russia has surpassed her strength! She 
has reached her limit !" 

He walked along, ominously shaking his head, and 
repeating the incomprehensible words: 

"She has surpassed her strength! She has sur- 
passed !" 

The endless ribbon of the carts moved on. Again 
the familiar faces and carts were suddenly lost from 



282 IN THE WAR 

sight and were found once more. Again a tired sol- 
dier, with an enormous, shining horn over his 
shoulder, was sitting near the road. Half-crazed Sis- 
ter Kamenev passed by in her buggy with her ter- 
rible load. Arching her back, the shaggy white pony 
with the wrenched leg leaped in pain, while the soldier 
who was behind her was trying to strike her with a 
switch over the sore spot. There was the pony. 
She was saved ! And so it had to be ! Guns and carts 
were abandoned, behind us stores worth millions were 
burning, and this useless, maimed pony was being 
dragged along, and would, of course, be saved! Sud- 
denly I felt in this an enormous, painful, symbolic 
caricature. 

A pale Cossack with a shattered chest had been 
tossed on top of a heavily loaded two-wheeled cart, and 
was grasping the tarred ropes with his feeble hands. 
Two soldiers were carrying on a stretcher an officer 
who had lost a leg. The soldiers were morose, and 
kept their eyes on the ground. The officer, his eyes 
senseless from fear, turned to all the officers and sur- 
geons whom he met with the words : 

"For God's sake, gentlemen, they want to abandon 
me! Don't let them!" 

It was rumored that nothing was left of the Second 
and Third Armies, that the troops had surrendered 
by whole battalions without firing a shot, and that the 
Japanese appeared everywhere in countless numbers 
and madly pressed the retreating men. 

"Well, now, of course, there will be an end of the 
war," said those who were frank. 

The same secret, unuttered thought found lodging 
in the heads of the soldiers. When the panic from 
the fire on the ford had subsided, a joyous "Hurrah!" 
resounded from somewhere. It turned out that, under 
the fire, the sappers had fixed up the broken bridge, 
and had brought back the abandoned ordnance, for 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 28S 

which the commander was thanking them. Through 
the crowds of the retreating soldiers there passed a 
joyously expectant tremor and all asked each other: 

"Well, has an armistice been announced?" 

Slowly, slowly moved the stream of the carts. The 
roads were wretched, the slopes steep, the bridges nar- 
row and half destroyed. Everybody thought only of 
himself. Here is a narrow place in the road. Across 
it is a deep hollow, deeper on one side than on the 
other. Every cart sticks in that hollow. The whips 
swish over the hard-pulhng horses, the soldiers strain 
to the utmost in their attempt to help the cart, and 
the cart finally gets out of the hollow. The next cart 
gets stuck in the same place, and again all is bustle, 
shouting, and swishing of whips. A more heavily 
loaded cart drops into the hollow and is overturned. 
If the men took a couple of spades they could fill in 
the hollow in five minutes, and then the carts could go 
at a gallop if they pleased. But everybody thought 
only of himself and of his cart. 

But why were the roads so terrible and so impassa- 
ble.? We had been retreating during the whole war. 
It could have been assumed, even with a small degree 
of probability, that we would have to retreat again. 
Here is where the curse was: our people considered 
this one thing the safest means against retreat, — to 
announce stubbornly that there would be no retreat, to 
act stubbornly in such a way that no one could even 
imagine such a thing as a retreat. 

A strange thing! During the whole campaign the 
Japanese did not have one occasion to retreat, but 
each time they took the most cautious and careful 
measures in case there should be a retreat. All we 
knew about was retreat; and yet each time our re- 
treat was for us something unexpected, and again 
and again we retreated over "unprepared roads." Be- 
yond Tieh-ling only one railway bridge led across the 



284 IN THE WAR 

river Liao-ho. Our Third Army crossed the river over 
the cracking, water-covered ice. If the battle had 
taken place a week later, it would have been im- 
possible to get across over the ice, and the Japanese 
would have captured our whole army with bare 
hands. 

I was told that at Ta-shi-kiau Kuropatkin, who was 
inspecting the hospitals, had asked one of the chief 
surgeons why there was no bath and no bakery in 
connection with the hospital. The chief surgeon was 
confused and replied that they did not know whether 
they would have to stay there long. Kuropatkin in- 
formed him firmly and calmly: 

"Do you see the river.? The Japanese will not go 
beyond this river. Put up a stone bake-house and a 
bath-house. Let the soldiers have a good Russian 
bath." 

The Japanese flung us hundreds of versts "beyond 
this river" ; but near Mukden everything proceeded 
in the old spirit. The stores of military and economic 
properties were stretched out in a thin line parallel 
with the front. The persons in authority kept saying 
that there would be no retreat. A week before the 
Mukden engagement our hospitals were reprimanded 
by the authorities for the small supply of fuel, and 
they were ordered to lay in supplies of from five to 
six cubic units. A cubic unit was at that time worth 
about a hundred rubles. The wood was bought, and 
two weeks later these mountains of fuel were burning 
before the advancing Japanese. "There will be no 
retreat ! There will be no retreat !" We surrendered 
Liao-yang in August, and up to that time all the 
country to the north of Liao-yang had been in our 
hands ; and yet we had not taken the trouble to have 
a good plan made of it. What was the result? Now, 
in the engagement near San-de-pu, one of the causes 
of our failure was the absence of good maps, and the 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 285 

incorrect conception about the situation of the village 
of San-de-pu. 

The word is power. To enunciate as many and as 
loud and threatening words as possible, "such as keep 
up the spirits" — that was the main thing. It was not 
at all important that facts all the time belied the 
words cruelly, — don't mind that! All that you had 
to do was to frown more sternly and to enunciate the 
threatening word more significantly and more omi- 
nously. Kuropatkin, upon his arrival, announced that 
peace would be made only at Tokio^ — and a few months 
later the Russian Army sang the sarcastic doggerel: 

"Kuropatkin then was saying 
That to Tokio he'd repair. 
Why, my charger, art thou neighing? 
Why art drooping in despair?" 

When Grippenberg arrived in the Army, he ad- 
dressed the soldiers with these solemn words : "If any 
of you retreat, I'll kill you ! If I retreat, kill me !" 
That's what he said — and then he retreated from 
San-de-pu ! 

In the beginning of the Mukden Engagement, the 
hospitals which had been stationed at Su-ya-tun were 
transferred to the north. In regard to this, I was 
told that Kaulbars issued an order in which he wrote 
(I haven't seen the order myself) : "The hospitals were 
transferred because the projectiles of the Japanese 
siege-guns reached as far as Su-ya-tun; but this does 
not in the least indicate a retreat. There will be no 
retreat under any circumstances ; there will be only an 
advance." A week later the whole Army, as though in 
the grip of a hurricane, did not retreat — it ran north. 

It was during this very flight, a few hours before 
the loss of the printing-press, that the official Messen- 
ger of the Manchurian Armies sang sweetly of dozens 
of repulsed attacks and of the forthcoming retreat 



286 IN THE WAR 

of the Japanese, and acquainted its readers with the 
productions of Lermontov, "the lieutenant of the 
Tengin Regiment." 

They say that during the Anglo-Chinese Opium War 
the Chinese, in order to frighten the Enghshmen and 
"keep up the spirits" of their own men, had placed 
enormous, monstrous guns made of clay in conspicuous 
spots. The Chinese went into battle making grimaces, 
contorting their bodies, and emitting savage cries. 
Nonetheless, the English were victorious. Against 
the clay guns they had smaller ones, but theirs were 
of iron and shot real balls. Against the grimaces and 
contortions there were organization, discipline, and 
careful calculations. 

The sun was setting, the sky became clear and calm. 
There was spring-like fragrance and it was warm. 
High up in the heavens, indifferent to what was taking 
place upon earth, the geese were flying northward. 
But all about us in the dust the weary line proceeded ; 
the accursed parks and batteries dashed forward reck- 
lessly, and the disorderly crowds of soldiers sauntered 
along. 

Men were seized by mortal fatigue. One's head was 
in a whirl and one's body barely kept itself in the 
saddle. One was thirsty, but all the wells along the 
road were dipped dry. There was no end to the road. 
At times it seemed as though in another minute I 
should fall down from my horse. Then there would 
be an end! That was perfectly clear. No one will 
care for you; everybody is thinking only of himself. 

And there in the approaching interval between the 
retreating Russians and the advancing Japanese some- 
thing was waiting which was more terrible than cap- 
tivity, more terrible than death. The inhabitants of 
the country devastated by us, those ominously silent 
nien with enigmatic, dispassionate faces, lay in wait in 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 287 

that intervening space, like jackals, for those who fell 
behind. Everybody knew that there would and could 
be no mercy from them, that we had done everything 
to fill their souls with a bloody, unslacked hatred for 
us. I recalled how the Buryats had slaughtered a 
sheep for us in the Trans-Baykal steppe, and I re- 
called the thoughts which I then had. 

One's soul became rigid in cold terror. Will-power 
was stretched to the utmost to retain the body in the 
saddle, and one's hand felt for the revolver in one's 
hip-pocket, to assure oneself that the redeemer for 
the occasion was near. 

Later, much later, I learned what even now makes 
my soul tremble in wonderment and the desire to bend 
my knees in reverence. A medical student had re- 
mained in our hospitals at Mukden and fallen into 
the hands of the Japanese. He was soon released and 
he told in the Harbin Messenger that the Chinese of 
their own good-will picked up the Russian wounded 
on the Mandarin Road and carried them to Mukden to 
the Japanese hospitals. Consider that they did not 
expect any reward from the Japanese, for the Japanese 
were miserly in the matter of rewards. Being them- 
selves overwhelmed with their own wounded, they natu- 
rally could only look awry at the Chinese with their 
burdens. And it was in this way that these enigmatic 
men revenged themselves upon us for their ruined 
country and their profaned graves and temples. 

The sun went down and the crescent of the new 
moon faintly shone above the glow. I fell in with 
Shantser and Selyukov. Shantser was animated and in 
good-spirits, as usual. Selyukov sat upon his horse 
like a living corpse. I learned from them that part 
of our baggage-train had been abandoned near the 
ford where we came under the Japanese fire. 

We agreed not to part from one another and tp 



S88 IN THE WAR 

watch each other carefully in the treacherous bag- 
gage stream, in which men were swallowed up and 
lost like so many grains of sand. 

It grew darker. The crescent of the moon had dis- 
appeared. Behind us and to the left of us could be 
seen the glow of fires. We were moving over by- 
paths. The turbidly grey earth showed non-existing 
ruts under our feet and concealed real hollows. It was 
impossible to travel away from the road, and equally 
impossible to travel on the road: it swarmed with jolt- 
ing carts which would have broken our horses' legs. 
In daytime the wagons moved slowly; now they were 
nearly always standing still. They would move a few 
hundred feet, and then they would stop again. We 
had long ago lost our baggage-train from sight. 

It was cold. At each side of the road bivouacks were 
placed and fires were burning, and these fires made the 
darkness still more dense. It was really not permitted 
to make fires, but no one paid any attention to this. 

Officers of a regiment, who had stopped with their 
battalion for a short rest, made us comfortable near 
their camp-fire. They treated us to cognac, sardines, 
and tea. Our gratitude and joy at seeing that there 
were such good people in the world were unlimited. 

To the south slowly swayed an enormous, continu- 
ous glow of fire. To the west the stations were burn- 
ing along the railway tracks. It was as though a 
series of enormous, quiet torches were extending along 
the horizon. These torches stretched out far ahead 
of us. It looked as though all who knew how to save 
themselves had long gone north, beyond the dark hori- 
zon. And we were here in a sort of ring. 

An officer of orderlies who had lost his way was sit- 
ting near me, stirring his tea in a tin cup, and talking. 

"Nobody knows where the regiment is. Whither was 
I to go? Suddenly I noticed the Staff of our army. 
JS^aulbars was standing and interrogating a Chinese 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 289 

prisoner. I walked up and stood waiting. Another 
officer rode up and asked in a low voice where the 
Seventh Regiment of the Rifle Division was. When 
Kaulbars heard this he swiftly turned around. 'What.'* 
What is it?' 'Your Excellency, I must know where 
the Seventh Regiment of the Rifle Division is.' Kaul- 
bars looked at him. *The Seventh Regiment?' He 
turned back and shrugged his shoulders. 'I do not 
know what has become of my whole Army, and he asks 
me where my Seventh Regiment is !' " 

I laid my head on the legs of Selyukov, who was 
sleeping soundly, and covered myself with my fur 
jacket. A calm, warm rest enfolded me. One of the 
officers was talking in an angry voice to the orderly, 
interrupting himself now and then. 

"We were located in the flank of the Third Army, 
near the Second. The siege battery was behind us. 
On the nineteenth we suddenly heard that they had 
taken it away. Where? Do you know where? To 
Tieh-ling! We didn't want to believe it. They were 
saving the things. They were saving the guns in the 
beginning of the engagement. The thought that they 
might fall into the hands of the Japanese was terrible. 
What is this anyway? Do the guns exist for the 
Army, or the Army for the guns?" 

I was just beginning to lose consciousness, but sud- 
denly it came back to me. I recalled that just at the 
time when we were crossing the river Hun-ho we had 
met the Borisoglyeb Company, as it was taking its 
ordnance to Tieh-ling. 

"We fought for three days, and we had no artillery. 
We had nothing but rifles with which to meet the 
Japanese ordnance. They had carried off^ not only 
the siege battery, but also all the guns. In our Army 
it is considered better to lose a thousand soldiers than 
to subject one gun to danger. Send a telegram that 
a whole division has been laid low, and you are hon- 



S90 IN THE WAR 

ored! Send a telegram that you have lost one gun, 
and you are disgraced! All the time they were think- 
ing not of doing harm to the Japanese with the guns, 
but only of keepkig the guns out of the hands of the 
Japanese. Is it really a disgrace to surrender a gun 
when it has done everything that it can?" 

"Well, the Japanese are not afraid of it," was heard 
a low bass. "They fly forward with their guns in a 
most impudent manner, without any protection, and 
they make it hot for our men." 

"That's right! A gun is lost. The devil take her! 
She has done all the good she can !" 

I listened and suddenly recalled an episode from 
Bonaparte's Italian expedition. He was besieging 
Mantua. An enormous Austrian army started from 
the Tyrol to relieve it. Then Bonaparte abandoned 
his heavy siege guns at Mantua, about two hundred 
cannon, and dashed to meet the Austrians, whom he 
completely annihilated. One has to laugh at the very 
thought — ^who would have dared to have abandoned 
two himdred siege guns in our Army.^^ We would have 
risked our whole Army, but we would have tried to save 
the guns ! 

It became comprehensible why our hospitals had 
been taken so hurriedly to the rear in the very begin- 
ning of the engagement. Everywhere was an immeas- 
urable caution, which was always expecting the worst. 
It was not the caution of a cold, calculating daring, 
but the caution of cowardice, the fear of a risk, the 
fear of what they might say there. 

I was beginning to fall asleep. The same angry 
voice, which interrupted itself, was cursing the artil- 
lery. 

"They are an ulcer on the body of the Army ! Just 
like the general staff! Landed proprietors in glasses, 
Frenchified dandies in tight trousers and lacquered 
boots. When it was necessary for us to go to a coun- 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 291 

ter attack, it turned out that no artillery was near! 
We took the village without any artillery aid. Where 
were they, the darlings ? They were on the run, push- 
ing everybody on the way ! They know that their guns 
are the most precious things in the army !" 

"No, gentlemen! Are they our warriors?" asked 
another voice, which was calm and saddened. "Where 
are these former lions? If a couple of Japanese peep 
out from behind the graves, a whole company of them 
starts on the run." 

"They are rabble, not soldiers !" resounded the 
angry bass. "The whole Army ought to be located in 
hospitals, and Kuropatkin ought to visit them and dis- 
tribute warm jerseys among them." 

"Doctor, Doctor ! Wake up !" 

A hand was touching my shoulder gently and cau- 
tiously. The battalion was departing. We awoke. 

It was still dark and the camp-fires were burning 
everywhere. Below, on the road, could be seen the 
black outlines of the swarming carts. Our hungry 
horses sadly browsed on the ground at last year's 
grass. Since I had fallen asleep, it had grown colder, 
and I was terribly sleepy. 

Bands of soldiers passed by. 

"Have you any idea how far the Japanese are from 
here ?" 

"About a verst from here. Beyond that hill." 

All about us were steep descents. We mounted our 
•horses, rode down to the road, and made our way 
between the standing carts. We rode about a verst. 
The carts were standing still, like a stream congealed 
in its course. The camp-fires were burning. 

Blocking the passage, the heavily-laden wagons 
could be outlined. Beyond, above them, was the even, 
unobstructed road. The soldiers were dozing on the 
carts. 



292 IN THE WAR 

"Why are you stopping? Did anything get 
broken ?" 

"No, sir." 

"Why do you obstruct the way?" 

They were silent for a moment. 

"We are feeding the horses. His Honor the Cap- 
tain has gone to sleep, and has told us not to wake 
him." 

"You good-for-nothing! Why don't you drive to 
one side? Don't you see that all the carts are stand- 
ing still on account of you?" 

"We are ordered to stay here, for later it will be 
hard to get back on the road." 

Our conversation was overheard by the lieutenant- 
colonel of the baggage-train, who rode up from be- 
hind. Swaying and out of breath from indignation, 
he went away to awake the captain. 

We rode on. By degrees the road became filled with 
carts once more, and it became increasingly difficult 
to make our way between them as they moved. We 
almost lost Selyukov. It was impossible to proceed by 
the roadside. All right ! We shall wait here for day- 
light, come what may! 

Three sappers were sitting on a mound near a camp- 
fire and baggage carts were standing nearby. The 
soldiers crowded up to each other and made a place 
for us by the fire. 

"Your Honor ! Is it true what they are telling, that 
a truce has been declared?" one of them asked me. 

"How can one talk truce now, when one can't find 
anybody? But peace, of course, is near at hand. It 
is impossible to continue the war, — that is perfectly 
clear." 

"Indeed, it would be time to make an end of it. We 
have been fighting for a long time." He was silent 
for a moment. "Tell me, will we have to pay the 
Japanese?" 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD g9S 

"It is very likely that they will ask for an indem- 
nity." 

"So the peasants will have to pay more taxes ! No, 
it would be better to continue fighting!" 

"What was the Tsar thinking about when he started 
the war?" another said, sighing. 

Behind us a shot was fired in the darkness, a sec- 
ond, and the firing became general. They were shoot- 
ing not more than a verst away. All were atten- 
tion. 

"Oh, the Japanese are not sleeping!" Shantser said, 
becoming nervously agitated. "They are driving us 
without cessation ! Apparently they have made up 
their minds to act differently than before, and they 
are listening to advice !" 

"Who is giving them this advice.?" a soldier asked, 
in wonderment. 

"The foreign newspapers have been writing all the 
time that the chief blunder of the Japanese is that they 
crush an army, but do not pursue it!" 

The soldier scratched his head. 

"He's clever as it is ! And still they are teaching him 
how!" 

The firing grew stronger and came nearer. Below, 
along the road, dashed the carts, and shouts and curses 
were heard. A band of soldiers rushed past the camp- 
fire. 

"Good fellows, what does this firing mean?" 

"Why, the Japs are pressing on; they have seized 
all the carts !" 

"Have we any protection?" 

"What protection? Our men shoot once, and then 
start to run!" 

Soldiers ran by, and below the carts were flying. 
The sappers hastily took their wagons back to the 
road. 

"Shall we ride on?" Shantser asked. 



294f IN THE WAR 

Selyukov was sitting with drooping head, completely 
exhausted. 

"I shan't ride! I'll roll off the horse, anyway!" 

I, too, suffered from a dull fatigue which responded 
to nothing in the world. Well, they will capture me. 
They wiU shoot me, that was a matter of infinite in- 
difference to me. To sleep ! To sleep ! That was the 
only important thing! 

"I'll lie down to sleep, myself," said I. "What is 
the use of riding anyway.^ The carts will crush us 
to death." 

We lay down around the campfire. The firing 
crackled and rolled on; it did not disturb our souls. 
New stations to the north were fired all the time — those 
were simple torches, which burned evenly on the hori- 
zon, without any concern to us. The thought of dis- 
tant dear ones passed through my mind. It merely 
flashed and disappeared. 

I awoke at daybreak. The fire had long ago gone 
out. Our arms had swelled under the armpits from 
the tight sleeves of the fur jackets, and the cold pene- 
trated our bones. Shantser and Selyukov, covered 
with hoar frost, were sleeping near the embers. The 
horses stood crestfallen, with drooping heads. 

On the road, as before, an endless procession of 
carts moved slowly to the north. Two bodies of sol- 
diers which had been removed from the road were 
lying by the roadside, trampled by wheels and horses' 
hoofs, and covered with dust and blood. Where were 
the Japanese .5^ They weren't there. It was an abso- 
lutely causeless panic which had taken place in the 
night. Somebody had shouted in his sleep, "The Japs I 
Fire!" and the panic started. The carts dashed on- 
ward in the darkness, crushing people and going over 
precipices. The soldiers fired into the darkness^ kill- 
ing their own people. 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 295 

I awakened Seljukov and Shantser, and we mounted 
our horses and rode off. The stars were growing dim, 
and the cold morning glow was spreading. We wa- 
tered the horses at the river. 

It grew lighter and lighter. The sun swam out to 
the right from behind some craters, and a warm wind 
passed through the air. Our bodies were rested, and 
we felt refreshed and invigorated. In the gleaming 
blue haze ahead of us could be seen a distant city, 
above which the cupolas of shrines and the bent edges 
of the roofs rose artistically. 

. . . The distant city in the morning, 
Full of mystery and splendor . . . 

Along the road an officer rode up to us. It was 
Lieutenant Shestov, that orderly of the Staff who, dur- 
ing the engagement, had ridden with us because "he 
didn't know where the Staff was now." The lieutenant 
surveyed us ironically and asked us with a supercilious 
smile : 

"Are you running away.?^" 

"We are." 

"And I am riding to Mukden." 

"To Mukden?" 

"Yes, to Mukden," replied the lieutenant, emphasiz- 
ing his words. It was as though he, in his bravery, 
knew something which we in our cowardice did not wish 
to know. 

"A happy journey!" 

We entered the city. Was this Tieh-ling? No, it 
was still thirty versts to Tieh-ling. Over the straight, 
narrow street moved carts and batteries and passed 
crowds of soldiers. Under the merry morning sun 
the strange stream slowly descended through the quiet, 
individual life of the Chinese town. Smoke rose from 
the chimneys, so naturally, so peacefully. Near the 



g96 IN THE WAR 

inn, beneath a silver fish on a red post, Chinese were 
crowding. Across the street ran children with black 
queues on the tops of their heads. Through the chinks 
of the paper windows maidens' eyes glistened curi- 
ously. 

We passed through the city. Beyond it the country 
became more hilly. A whole ocean of carts was 
crowded in front of a bridge. The Cossacks worked 
their knouts, clearing the way for some kind of cart. 

"Don't crowd, devil's children! Wait for your 
turn !" 

"Do you suppose the Chief Commander is going to 
wait for you? Move aside!" 

Leaning down from their saddles, the Cossacks seized 
the cart horses by the bridles. The knouts swished 
through the air. The baggage-train of the Third 
Army staff rushed by. A general of importance drove 
past in his carriage. ... 

The country became more hilly, and mighty craters 
arose on each side. It grew cold, and the wind raised 
clouds of dust. The carts were disputing each other's 
way as before, and tried to get ahead of each other in 
the narrow passes. The discipline fell visibly. . . . 

In the morning we met a part of our baggage-train, 
with which were Dr. Grechikhin and Assistant-Super- 
visor Bruk. We travelled together after that. No- 
body knew where the chief surgeon and the supervisor 
were. 

Towards evening there appeared in the distance a 
high mountain crowned with fortifications. Beyond 
the mountain lay Tieh-ling. The road branched in 
two directions. At the fork of the roads an officer 
on horseback was stationed, and he shouted : 

"The Sixth and the Sixteenth Corps to the right! 
The First and the Tenth to the left !" 

For the first time in all this long journey, full of 
confusion and anarchy, somebody was making ar- 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD ^97 

rangements, somebody was thinking of something. We 
approached the foot of the mountain. There was a 
long line of deserted gardens, surrounded by low clay 
fences. The bivouacs stood in close array, and the 
plain was covered with camp-fires. We also stopped. 

All three other hospitals of our corps were already 
here. Ill and jaundiced, Sultanov lay in a four-horse 
wagon which had been intended for the Sisters. 
Novitskaya, with black, parched lips and a dust- 
covered face, was shouting angrily at the soldiers, like 
some landed proprietress. The passing soldiers looked 
in amazement at this unusual chief. 

"Is a woman commanding you.^^" they asked Sulta- 
nov's soldiers, with a smile. 

Sultanov's soldiers kept stubborn silence, and turned 
their faces away. 

Zinaida Arkadevna walked up to us. 

"That will do! That will do!" she said, dropping 
her arms in attractive fatigue. "We have seen enough 
of terrors 1 Good-bye ! We are going to Harbin by 
rail! Do you know, poor Varvara Fedorovna got 
separated from us and travelled all the way alone in 
her buggy, with the half-decayed body of her hus- 
band lying in a heap at her feet! She came here and 
wanted to send the body from the station by train, but 
they would not accept it. Finally a general, a dear 
man, took pity on her. He ordered the body to be 
packed in mattings and sent on by freight. She has 
gone by train with the body." 

We found quarters in a mean little clay barn. Our 
friends, the officers and surgeons, came to see us. 

"Our Corps Commander has been ordered to place 
a division at the positions before Tieh-ling, but they 
do not know at the staff where the regiments are. They 
are all lost!" 

"Will there be an engagement near Tieh-ling?" ^ 

"God knows ! Possibly some insignificant rear-guard 



WS IN THE WAR 

action. It is iinpossible to get the troops together, 
and there are no mihtary supplies : all the stores were 
lately beyond the positions — and part of them have 
been shot to pieces, part of them have been dynamited, 
so as not to let them fall into the hands of the Japa- 
nese.'* 

"Yes, gentlemen, it's a bad story !" 

A young surgeon, with a wounded arm, was telling as 
follows : 

"Ever since early morning have I been looking for 
our Corps Staff; but nobody knows where it is. I was 
told, 'There is the train of the Commander-in-Chief! 
Go and ask there !' I went and asked. 'Inquire at the 
operation department, in that car there !' I went there. 
On the table lay maps. The Colonel of the General Staff 
was moving his fingers over one of them and speaking 
in a low voice to two generals: 'We have 360 battal- 
ions, and the Japanese have only 270. Now, I ask you, 
how did all this happen?' I felt uncomfortable, be- 
cause it looked as though I were eavesdropping. I 
coughed. 'What do you want ?' 'I want to know where 
the Staff of the Corps is.' The colonel looked at me 
humorously. 'Yes, where is the Staff of the Corps .f*' 
And they burst out laughing and walked away." 

At Tieh-ling Station there was a crowd of people. 
They were drinking liquor and tea and having their 
supper. Near me sat a dry official of the commissariat 
with the shoulder-straps of a State Councillor. He told 
his neighbor, a lieutenant-colonel of the baggage-train, 
how they were totally unable to find any dressing ma- 
terial, and how the stores were being destroyed. Lean- 
ing confidentially towards his interlocutor, he added in 
a loud whisper: 

"Now each day increases our income by fifteen hun- 
dred or two thousand rubles !" 

We lay down to sleep in our barn. From the staff 
came the order to leave next morning at daybreak for 



ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 299 

Kai-yuan Station, some thirty-five versts to the north 
of Tieh-ling. From the station came belated Bruk, who 
informed us that there was a panic there; they were 
dismantling the letter-boxes and telegraph apparatus 
and all were on the run, because the Japanese were ap- 
proaching Tieh-ling. 



CHAPTER IX 



WANDERING 



At daybreak we arose and began to get ready. Every- 
body was excited and nervous. We felt the approach- 
ing storm from the south. Companies and battalions 
passed by. 

"Where do you come from.^" 

"From the positions." 

"How long have you been here.^*" 

"We've just arrived." 

"Are the Japanese far from here?" 

"About ten versts." 

The sun rose and shone through a dim haze. It was 
warm. Cart after cart started and poured into the 
common stream of the wagons on the road. Again 
those who were on the highways did not admit the new 
ones; again the knouts swished in all directions and 
curses were heard. 

Something was disintegrating more and more. The 
bars, which it seemed had grown stronger, were disap- 
pearing. A fat general left his carriage and shouted 
angrily at a lieutenant. The lieutenant retorted in 
kind. The quarrel grew more intense. A crowd of offi- 
cers stood around. . . . 

Near the station masses of drunken soldiers swarmed 
around the cars. On the ground lay paper boxes, 
wooden boxes, bales. Those were the cars of the Offi- 
cers' Economic Society. The soldiers looted them in 
plain sight of everybody. They broke open the boxes, 
filled their pockets with sugar, carried off bottles of 

300 



WANDERING 301 

cognac and rum and packages of costly tobacco. . . . 

Our baggage-train moved slowly through the narrow 
streets of Tieh-ling. Drunken soldiers looted the Chi- 
nese, the Armenian and the Russian shops, and the 
shopkeepers ran about and shouted in great excitement. 
The looting was stopped with difficulty in one place, 
and it burst forth in another. Near the square a dying 
Chinaman, his head split open by a sabre, was wallow- 
ing in the gutter. The carts and batteries moved on in 
a disorderly stream, obstructing the narrow streets. 
Crowds of soldiers sauntered by, their rifles dangling 
over their shoulders. The Chinamen stood near their 
houses and looked on with their usual dispassionate ex- 
pression. But, casting upon them a sudden glance, I 
caught in their eyes the ghnt of a malicious, trium- 
phant hatred, such as was in the eyes of that old man 
at Pa-lin-pu. And just as rapidly their eyes be- 
came dull under our glances and looked indiiFerently 
at us. 

We left the city. The broad, frozen river Liao-ho 
cut across the road. Above the river to the left ap- 
peared the charming fretwork railway bridge, which 
looked as though it were constructed of cobwebs. A 
few days later it was blown up before the advancing 
Japanese. 

The carts crossed the river over the ice. The ice 
was already rotten, and it cracked and bent under the 
weight of the wagons. The water came swirling 
through the ice-holes and spread in muddy puddles. To 
the left of us a dirty road led over the ice and came to 
a sudden stop near a big opening, where it had given 
way in the morning under the carts. 

I was on horseback. The horse, up to its knees in 
water, stepped cautiously over the cracking ice. It 
was an uncomfortable thoughts — what if the battle had 
taken place just a week later .^^ It would have been a 
Berezina all over again. 



302 IN THE WAR 

About a hundred steps from the river and on the 
other side of it there rose a steep, high rampart. Ap- 
parently it was a Chinese dam, which protected the 
fields against the floods of the Liao-ho. The horses and 
the men struggled almost beyond their strength to drag 
the carts up that steep incline. And again it was a 
strange sight: two dozen soldiers might have laid a 
splendid, even road over this rampart in something like 
half an hour. But nobody did so; there was no one 
to take charge of the matter. In the Army there ex- 
isted a whole department of "mihtary communications." 
But where the representatives of this department were 
now, and what they were doing, that only omnipresent 
God knew ! We got across the dam, turned to the left, 
and proceeded along the "column road" down the rail- 
way track. 

Over the rails, running past and ahead of us, the 
trains which were loaded with property that had been 
saved dashed northward. It was a strange sight: just 
as a piece of sugar is surrounded by flies, so every car 
was thickly peppered with fugitive soldiers. Soldiers 
sat on the roofs of the cars, on the buffers, on the steps, 
on the brakes, and on the tenders. 

The carts moved on in the usual dense stream over 
the broad "column road." This road had been laid 
out in time by the Russians. But it had been laid out 
so much in time that, by the day of retreat, a good half 
of the bridges had rotted away and fallen to pieces. 
The carts went past these bridges, driving straight over 
the beds of frozen brooks. Suppose there had been 
mud or rain ! 

Constantly a few carts kept separating from the 
stream of the wagons, and moved in the direction of the 
Chinese villages which lay near the road. The soldiers 
could be seen standing on the hayricks and throwing 
bundles of kao-liang and chumiz into the carts. Chi- 
namen were busily running all around the soldiers. A 



WANDERING 305 

soldier would raise his clenched fist and a Chinaman 
would fly headlong from a rick to the ground. Mean- 
while, enormous stores of provender rose near the sta- 
tion. Huge rows of chumiz and rice straw "bunts," each 
weighing thirty thousand puds, followed each other in 
continuous succession. Yellow mountains of cut grain 
and mattings of grain bins, filled to the top with oats, 
kao-liang and chumiz, could be seen everywhere. But 
it was not an easy matter to procure anything from 
them. An officer of the Rifle Division, trembling with 
anger and shaking his clenched fists, told me the fol- 
lowing : 

"I sent to the commissariat for canned goods and 
oats, but they did not let me have any, because a writ- 
ten request was necessary. I wrote out the request, but 
the men returned with empty hands, because the re- 
quest had to be written in ink and not with pencil! I 
beg of you, where were we to get the ink from? We 
could thank God that we found even a stub of a pencil ! 
So we went away without anything, and the next day 
all the stores were consumed by fire!" 

Up to the last hour the delivery of every pud of 
oats or straw was surrounded by insuperable formali- 
ties. When anybody pointed out the fact that all the 
stores would have to be burned anyway, the authorities 
angrily frowned and replied impatiently: 

"What are you talking about! There can be no 
thought of it !" 

Meanwhile, the Japanese guns were roaring and the 
intermittent rifle fire was crackling in the distance. 
Then matters suddenly changed. Everybody could 
take without a request as much as he wanted or could 
carry away, and kerosene was poured over the stores, 
which went up in smoke. 

"Everywhere, everywhere this mystery, this stupid, 
useless mystery !" a grey-haired colonel of artillery said 
in a tired voice. "Up to the last minute they conceal 



304. IN THE WAR 

everything from everybody, and then they send mil- 
lions up in smoke!" 

A general who passed by gave the following com- 
mand : "The Commander-in-Chief has ordered that the 
carts should be driven at a gallop and should not stop 
for the night !" But, in consequence of the bad bridges 
and the crowding, we had to travel slowly and stop 
now and then. 

We made only fourteen versts a day, and stopped for 
the night in a Chinese village. 

With us there was only a part of the baggage-train 
which we had saved. The chief surgeon and the super- 
visor were still absent. The chief surgeon's authority 
had passed down to the senior orderly, Grechikhin, and 
the supervisor's authority to his assistant, Bruk. And, 
because of the absence of those two men, everything 
about us became clean and comfortable. We informed 
our detachment that we would apply the severest meas- 
ures to those who would steal anything from the Chi- 
nese. To avoid any such necessity, we bought kao-liang 
straw from the Chinese for fuel, and we made arrange- 
ments with the landlords as to how much we would pay 
for staying overnight in their farm-houses. The surly 
Chinese suddenly became obliging and hospitable to us. 
An old man, with a sparse beard, shaking from old age, 
entered the room and put on the table two big red 
candles. 

"Captain heap shango !" said the Chinamen, shaking 
their heads and raising their index fingers in sign of 
approval. 

Our soldiers frowned and were dissatisfied. They 
were deeply provoked because we paid the Chinese, 
whereas we could get everything for nothing. A 
strange soldier entered our yard and began to break 
down the gate. I drove him off. Our soldiers looked 
with disapproval at me. They said reservedly: 

"It's all right when you are warm! Otherwise you 



WANDERING 805 

may slap a soldier's face — ^he will carry off every- 
thing !" 

They tried to prove that the Chinese were treated as 
they deserved: 

"Our Tsar ordered them to remove themselves for 
the distance of twenty-five versts from the railway, so 
what are they sticking here for?" 

They told how the Chinese tortured the captured 
Russians, and how, upon abandoning their farmhouses, 
they filled the ovens with powder, so that when the sol- 
diers made a fire there was an explosion and all were 
killed by the bricks. I retorted: 

"Tell me, you ! If the Germans and the Turks were 
to wage war with each other in Russia, would you act 
differently? We have ruined them all, and have sent 
them as beggars over the world." 

"Yes, Your Honor! That is the way it should al- 
ways be in military service !" 

"No, Your Honor! Say what you please — these 
Chinamen hate us !" 

"Yes, my dear man! But why should they love us? 
If we treated them justly, did not loot their property, 
did not beat them, things would be different! But, as 
it is, why should they love us ?" 

"No, it's all the same! The Chinese are like any 
other Catholics — they always hate the Orthodox peo- 
ple and are ready to cut them to pieces !" 

It grew dark and we were getting ready to go to 
sleep. Over the yard, like a shadow, a Chinaman 
walked silently. 

"Friend, what are you doing here ? It's time for you 
to go to bed!" 

The Chinaman moved his hand in a sign of negation. 

"Captain sleep-sleep. Chinaman walk around. Sol- 
dier loot !" 

In the morning we proceeded on our way, and in 
the evening arrived at Kai-yuan. A mass of carts and 



S06 IN THE WAR 

military units were gathered there. We stayed for the 
night in a farmhouse, together with some Ural Cos- 
sacks. They scolded the infantry, and told how the 
foot-soldiers were running in wild crowds down the rail- 
way tracks. Kuropatkin had sent the Ural Cossacks 
to cut off their retreat, and the soldiers began to shoot 
the Cossacks. 

The Ural Cossacks would not even listen to talk of 
the end of the war. 

"How can we end the war ? This has never happened 
before to Russia ! It would be a shame to return home, 
and the women will jeer at us and refuse to obey us!" 

Cannon boomed to the south. A new order came — to 
proceed farther to the north, to Chan-teh-fu. On the 
way we learned that Tieh-ling had been taken and that 
the Japanese were continuing their pursuit. During 
the fording of some kind of brook we fell in with an- 
other part of our baggage-train which had escaped de- 
struction. The chief surgeon and the supervisor were 
here, and the two Sisters who had not been with our 
party. 

The chief surgeon told glibly of his wanderings with 
the supervisor, and of the privations which they had 
suffered on the way, and the two Sisters told us some 
very strange things about them. After the fusillade to 
which our baggage-train had been subjected, the chief 
surgeon and the supervisor had disappeared and no one 
had seen them since. The Sisters had travelled with 
that part of the baggage-train where the money-box 
was. There was no officer present, and the train was 
in command of Corporal Smetannikov. He managed 
matters deftly and energetically, and the Sisters re- 
ceived from him more care than they had ever experi- 
enced with the chief surgeon and the supervisor. They 
arrived at Tieh-ling and bivouacked there. Suddenly 
they learned that the chief surgeon and the supervisor 
were in Tieh-ling, eating their supper at the railway 



WANDERING 307 

station. The detachment was overjoyed. Smetannikov 
galloped to the railway station; but the chief surgeon 
did not return to the baggage-train. All he did was to 
order Smetannikov to stand still and not move without 
his command, even if all were in danger of being cap- 
tured. The baggage-train stayed there for the night. 
The cannon roared to the south and the Japanese were 
advancing. The chief surgeon and the supervisor again 
disappeared. 

Smetannikov did not know what to do. The sol- 
diers pressed him threateningly with questions. 

"Soul-killer! Why should we stay here.'^ You see 
that everybody is getting away ! It's all very nice for 
the chief surgeon to talk ! They will take him into cap- 
tivity ! But they will cut us to pieces before that !" 

Just then a mounted Cossack turned up. 

"Idiots ! What are you standing for.? Get away, 
for the Japs will be here soon !" 

Smetannikov took counsel with the Sisters, and de- 
cided to move. Two days later the chief surgeon and 
the supervisor at last joined them. The Sisters were 
afraid that Smetannikov might have to answer for his 
arbitrary departure, so they said to the chief sur- 
geon : 

"It is our fault that the baggage-train left Tieh- 
ling, for we told Smetannikov to leave." 

Davydov answered calmly : 

"Of course, that was proper! What did you want 
to stand for longer .f"' 

Guessing at the truth, and fearing to depend upon 
their guess, the Sisters looked cautiously about them, 
and informed us in a whisper: 

"Do you know, we have the impression that the 
chief surgeon was anxious for the strong box to fall 
into the hands of the Japanese!" 

This smacked of such moral turpitude that we did 
not want to believe it even of Davydov. Then I re- 



808 IN THE WAR 

called that in the very beginning of the retreat the 
chief surgeon had said in passing that for safety he 
had transferred the money from the strong-box to his 
own pocket. Oh, that carrion crow! 

And there were many such carrion crows, impudent, 
rapacious, and ravenous, that were circling over the 
retreating, exhausted Army, and over the long-suffer- 
ing Manchurian country! 

Our baggage-train stopped. In front of us the 
usual obstruction of the carts blocked up the way. 
The chief surgeon was having a conversation with a 
neat artillery lieutenant-colonel, who was in charge 
of a park brigade. He had arrived from Russia but 
a week before, and he was dreadfully disappointed be- 
cause, in the opinion of everybody, the war was at 
an end. He asked Davydov how long he had been in 
the war, and how much he had "earned." 

"You have a fine pair of horses," said the chief sur- 
geon, who was a great lover of horseflesh. 

"They are fine, aren't they?" 

"Your own?" 

"Yes. I bought up a couple of rejected horses at 
forty rubles, and I turned them over to the unit and 
there picked out this pair. They are fine." 

From a nearby Chinese village artillerymen walked 
up to the carts, carrying on their shoulders sheaves 
of chumiz straw. Two excited Chinamen came gal- 
loping up. One of them, an interpreter, with a deli- 
cate, intelligent face, spoke in pure Russian to the lieu- 
tenant-colonel : 

"Just look ! Your soldiers are carrying off the straw 
from the Chinese!" 

The lieutenant-colonel turned away. 

"It is not only my soldiers who are doing it." 

He touched his horse with his spurs. The interpreter 
bit his lip and looked after him. 

"The patience of the Chinese will soon give wa^ 



WANDERING 309 

and they will begin to shoot at you!" he shouted an- 
grily, and slowly drove away. 

The matter was both painful and ridiculous. Where 
was the limit at which the Chinese patience would at 
last give wsij? 

We stopped at Chan-teh-fu for two days. We heard 
the news that Kuropatkin had been deposed and re- 
called to St. Petersburg. In the evening our hospitals 
received an order from the Chief of the Sanitary Unit 
of the Third Army, General Chetyrkin. Our hospital 
was commanded to go north, to stop at siding No. 86, 
to pitch a tent there, and to stay there until March 8 ; 
and then, at twelve o'clock noon (how precise!), with- 
out awaiting any further order, to go to Kung-chu- 
ling. 

But during our retreat we had lost half of our train, 
and were unable to function as a hospital, which fact, 
of course, we had reported to the general at the proper 
time. However, the command had to be carried out. 

We started. Again endless lines of carts and re- 
treating units extended northward on both sides of 
the railway tracks. We were told that the Japanese 
had already taken Kai-yuan, and that the siding be- 
yond Kai-yuan had already been fired. Again trains 
rushed past us, and again all the cars were thickly 
peppered with fugitive soldiers. We were informed 
that at Kung-chu-ling they had stopped more than 
forty thousand fugitives, that fifty soldiers had been 
turned over to be court-martiaUed, and that men were 
being shot without mercy. 

About four o'clock in the morning we arrived at 
the siding. A complete wilderness — ^not a single ham- 
let, not a brook, no trees nearby; only one small well 
in which there was enough water for ten horses, and 
no more. The chief surgeon wired Chetyrkin that 
there was neither wood nor provender nor water at 



310 IN THE WAR 

the siding, and that the hospital could not function 
there, and he asked his permission to take up a posi- 
tion somewhere else. 

We stayed there for the night. The telegram was 
not answered, but now, with the cement all worked 
out, things were done easily and simply. We broke 
camp without permission, and proceeded to Si-ping-kai. 

Si-ping-kai swarmed with troops and institutions. 
At the station stood the luxurious train of the new 
Commander-in-Chief, Linevich. The plate windows of 
the train glistened, and in the car containing the 
kitchen cooks were busily at work. The officers of the 
staff walked about on the platform, neat, well-dressed 
and well-fed; and they furnished a strange sight 
among the emaciated, dust-covered officers and sol- 
diers that kept marching by. Malice and hostility 
were engendered. 

Ominous, disturbing rumors kept coming up and 
spreading abroad: the Japanese were already within 
twenty versts of Si-ping-kai; Nogi, with an army of 
sixty thousand men, was advancing from the rear to 
Kirin; the Japanese had captured part of Kuropat- 
kin's baggage-train, and the plans of the defence of 
Vladivostok had fallen into their hands. The common 
impression was that it was quite unthinkable to con- 
tinue the war, and that the troops were utterly de- 
moralized. On everybody's lips was the one word — 
"Sedan." At the same time we were informed that 
they had decided at St. Petersburg to continue the 
war at all costs, and that, "to raise the spirit of the 
Army," Prince Nikolay Nikolaevich had been chosen 
as Commander-in-Chief. A painful sensation was cre- 
ated at the thought — How can men be so utterly blind ? 

Everything about us gave the impression of unlim- 
ited, universal confusion and insuperable disorder. I 
met a friend of mine who was an officer at the Staff 
of our army. He told me that it was rumored that 



WANDERING 811 

a Japanese column was marching parallel with our 
troops, about fifteen versts from the railway. 

"But this can be definitely determined by scouts," 
I replied, in perplexity. 

"You can't imagine" what is now taking place at 
the Staff! It is a fairy-tale that an uninitiated man 
would not believe t One would think that never has 
time been hotter than now, and that the Staffs must 
be working day and night! Yet they are sitting with 
folded arms ! I have discovered some work for myself, 
in order that I may not see what is taking place all 
about me! They have all but one absorbing interest, 
and that is, rewards ! They talk of nothing else but 
rewards !" 

Many anecdotes were told about the Japanese being 
so well informed. A captive Japanese officer was 
brought to our general. Just then the general was com- 
manding his orderly : 

"Ride at once to the commander of the N. Regi- 
ment and tell him so-and-so." 

"Your Excellency, where is the regiment stationed.'^" 

"Where.? What do you call that village?" 

The general tried hard to think of the name, and 
helplessly snap;^ed his fingers. The Japanese obligingly 
came to his aid: 

"Your Excellency, the N. Regiment is stationed 
at the village of Z." 

Another anecdote: 

A Cossack brought to the Staff a man in the uni- 
form of a Russian officer, and reported that he had 
caught a disguised Japanese spy. 

"But this is a Russian officer!" 

"No, sir! A Japanese!" 

"He is a Russian ! You are talking nonsense !" 

'*A Japanese! I am sure! In the first place, he 
talks excellent Russian; in the second, he knows the 
disposition of our armies admirably." 



S12 IN THE WAR 

We stopped at Sl-plng-kai for several days, and on 
March 8, at noon, executing the command of General 
Chetyrkin, we started for Kung-chu-ling. Now the 
roads were broad and empty; the majority of the 
carts had left for the north. There were rumors that 
bands of Hung-hu-tziis were roaming about and at- 
tacking the units that were moving separately. In 
the evening, when we were walking in the darkness 
over the mountains, the dry, last-year's grass began 
to burn mysteriously on the slopes of the craters and 
long ribbons of fire crept past us, while all around 
us was quiet and calm. It was said that the Chinese 
were in this way indicating to the Japanese the roads 
over which the Russians were retreating. We were 
disquieted and felt nervous. 

Here and there, in the villages along the road, 
guards consisting of one or two companies were sta- 
tioned for protection. One morning we passed through 
such a village and then descended into the valley. Over 
the slope of a ravine five or six black Chinese pigs 
dashed at breakneck speed, and after them, stretching 
out far over the plain, ran soldiers with rifles in their 
hands. Now and then a soldier squatted, did some- 
thing which we could not make out, and ran on. Our 
detachment followed what was taking place with eager 
and sympathetic interest. 

"Bully! He got her! She has turned a somerset!" 

"No, he has missed her ! He has only wounded her ! 
She is off again!" 

"Off! Not a bit of it! He is finishing her with 
the bayonet!" 

The soldiers were shooting at the pigs. The wind 
was blowing away from us, and we could not hear the 
shots. All we could see was the feeble flashes from 
the barrels of the rifles. 

Four soldiers were running to cut off the flight of 
the pigs. One of them squatted and fired — ^he missed 



WANDERING 313 

her. The bullet, whining, passed over our heads. Like 
little children, the soldiers forgot everything and were 
all absorbed in the hunt. The fires from the rifles 
flashed, the bullets whistled. 

Our eyes could not believe it: this was taking place 
within two steps of the Japanese at the time when a 
false alarm of battle might lead to endless calamities ! 

From behind a hill there appeared three cautious 
heads of Cossacks with their pikes. The soldiers were 
triumphantly dragging the pigs to the village. 

Relieved by the absence of an expected danger, the 
Cossacks galloped at a lively pace up to the soldiers 
and began to scold them. The excited chief surgeon 
shouted : 

"Oh, there, Cossacks! Arrest them! Bring them 
here 1" 

The Cossacks brought up two frightened soldiers, 
with faces as white as chalk. One was a young, beard- 
less fellow; the other had a black beard, and was 
about thirty years old. The Cossacks told as follows : 

"Our hundred was proceeding along the road, when 
suddenly we heard some firing, and bullets whizzed over 
our heads. The commander sent us out on scouting 
duty, and it was these rascals !" 

"Unscrew the bayonets !" the chief surgeon com- 
manded. "Let me see if their rifles are loaded! Oh, 

you sons-of-b ! Have them court-martialled at 

once ! Follow after us !" 

The Cossacks galloped away to join their hundred. 
We moved on, accompanied by the prisoners. They 
walked along, slowly rolling their wide-open eyes, and 
pale from the sudden danger that had descended upon 
them. Our soldiers spoke to them sympathetically. 

On the bank of a river, at the bottom of a slope, 
lay with drooping head an ox which had strayed from 
the herd. The chief surgeon's eyes were burning. He 
stopped the baggage-train, walked down to the river, 



S14. IN THE WAR 

and commanded the soldiers to slaughter the ox and to 
carry off the meat. This was a hundred rubles of 
profit for him! The soldiers grumbled and said: 

"Maybe he is diseased. We won't eat the meat, 
anyway !" 

The chief surgeon pretended that he did not hear 
the grumbling, stuck his finger into the bloody lights, 
and said: 

''Oh, he's all right! It would be a shame to throw 
away so much meat on the road I" 

The prisoners were not placed under guard. They 
made use of the distraction and disappeared. 

We arrived at Kung-chu-ling. This, too, was all 
filled with troops. Assistant-supervisor Bruk had been 
stationed there for five days with a part of the bag- 
gage-train. The chief surgeon had sent him there 
with the superfluous property from the siding to which 
we had been ordered by General Chetyrkin. Bruk 
said that he had upon arriving turned to the local com- 
missariat with the request for oats. The horses had 
been eating nothing but straw for a week. At the 
commissariat he was asked: 

''Where does your hospital come from.?" 

"From Mukden." 

"Oh, from Mukden ! No oats for you : we give noth- 
ing to fugitives!" 

And they didn't give him any. Here there was a 
idisplay of that amazing "patriotism" that in this war 
distinguished the Rear, which hadn't smelt powder once* 
During the whole time up to the declaration of peace 
this Rear burned with military courage from its safe 
distance, heaped contempt on the Army that was drain- 
ing its blood, and called men to "Russia's honor and 
glory." 

It must be said that there were heroism, daring, and 
self-sacrifice there behind us; but here one was struck 
by the human cowardice, shamelessness, and moral filth 



66 

«1 



WANDERING ai5 

— all that dark ooze which, in the beginning, the gigan^ 
tic wave of the retreating Army cast forth. 

At the buffet I met some kind of officer from one 
of our regiments. The commander of his company 
had been killed in the very beginning of the battle, and 
the command had passed over to him. 

"How do you happen to be here?'^ 

He answered cheerfully: 

'*I just got sick. Rheumatism in my legs. I ap- 
plied to the hospital, but they wouldn't take me." 

"How long have you been here.?" 

"About ten days." 

"Who is in charge of your company.?" 

*'We have a supernumerary lieutenant there." 

'And what are you doing here.?" 

'I am waiting for our regiment." 

He was waiting for it! And he himself, jolly, care- 
free, vivacious, did not even understand the disgrace- 
fulness of his action! 

Fugitive soldiers continued to make their escape 
on the trains which were travelling north. Special 
officers had been despatched to catch them. Such an 
officer would be sitting in a heated freight-car where 
it was dark, while the moon shone brightly outside. 
There would be outlined the figure of a soldier with 
his rifle, trying to climb into the car. 

"Oh, Long-beard! Where are you going?" 

"Don't mind, countryman! I am alone!" 

^'Where are you going to.?" 

"I'm looking for my regiment." 

"So you are going to Harbin to look for your regi- 
ment, eh?" 

And the soldier would be arrested. 

A surgeon in charge of a disinfection train, a friend 
of mine, told me the following : during the retreat from 
Mukden an empty heated freight-car was filled with 
wounded officers. The train arrived at Kuan-cheng- 



316 IN THE WAR 

tzii. Suddenly many of the wounded discarded their 
bandages, climbed out of the car, and calmly scat- 
tered in all directions. The bandages had been placed 
on uninjured limbs. A lieutenant-colonel with a heav- 
ily bandaged eye informed the doctor that he had been 
wounded by a projectile in the cornea. The doctor 
took off the bandage, expecting to see a horrible wound ; 
but the eye was perfectly well. 

"Where is your injury?" 

"I have no wound, you know. What do you call it.'' 
A projectile flew close by! A contusion! I have re- 
ceived a contusion in the cornea !" 

The Chief Inspector of Hospitals, Ezerski, of whom 
I have already told many a story, could now develop 
his activity in full. The ex-chief of police now found 
his milieu. He galloped from station to station, and 
from train to train, and arranged formal raids and 
domiciliary searches. They told that he had found 
in a train two officers who had concealed themselves 
from him under an empty kettle on an open car. But 
General Ezerski did not confine himself to the arrest 
of fugitives in freight and passenger cars. He did 
the same in the sanitary trains. He verified and 
changed the diagnoses of the surgeons, and put out 
the sick, whom he declared to be well. Apparently his 
activity ultimately attracted attention; he was trans- 
ferred somewhere to the Rear, I think to Vladivostok. 

The advance of the Japanese came to a stop. Slowly 
everything began to assume orderly shape. The con- 
nections between the units were re-established. 

There were rumors that our scouting-parties were 
unable to find Japanese anywhere. They had some- 
how disappeared without a trace. It was said that 
they were marching by detours on each side of the 
railway as far as the station Vand-zia-tun, and from 
the east, while another was approaching Bodune from 
the west. 



WANDERING 317 

Late in the evening of March 14, our two mov- 
able hospitals and six others received a new order 
from General Chetyrkin, to leave next day at 
noon and proceed to the village of Li-dia-tun. 
To the order were attached descriptions of the coun- 
try with indications of the chief villages along the 
road. It was necessary to proceed thirty versts to 
the north along the railway as far as the station 
Fand-zia-tun, and from there twenty versts to the 
west. 

All our military units were stationed here at Kung- 
chu-ling, so what was the use of going there? But 
it wasn't our business to reason. We proceeded. 

The weather changed. It was misty, cold, and 
windy. In the evening it began to drizzle, and at night- 
fall a wet snow fell. We stopped for the night near 
a siding, in a small fortified village of frontiersmen, 
and in the morning we moved on. According to the 
plan with which we had been furnished, we were to 
turn to the left, and the Fand-zia-tun Station could 
be seen in the distance. We asked some Chinese who 
passed by where the village of Li-dia-tun was. They 
all pointed unanimously to the east of the railway, 
whereas our plan ordered us to go to the west. Then 
we began to inquire about the road villages which were 
given in our plan, Dava and Hunshimioz. The China- 
men pointed them out to the west. 

The chief surgeon hired a Chinese guide, but, on 
account of his haggling spirit, he did not make any ar- 
rangement about the price, and simply said, "I pay 
you money." The Chinaman guided us. The snow 
kept falling, and it was cold and wet. We moved ahead 
slowly. Towards evening we stopped in a large vil- 
lage about seven versts from the railway. There was 
not even a sign of the presence of Russian troops 
around us — ^not a soldier, not a Cossack. Nothing but 
Chinese. Other hospitals which had been despatched 



318 IN THE WAR 

together with ours passed by. Everybody was in per- 
plexity, everybody cursed Chetyrkin. 

"To what place is he sending us? Somewhere into 
the depths of China ! And all by ourselves ! What are 
we going to do there?" 

"I suppose he put his finger on the map, hit or miss : 
take my hospitals there and there ! Then the superiors 
will see that he is not sitting without work, that he is 
busy and doing something!" 

We stayed for the night in a large, well-to-do farm- 
house of an old Chinaman with a serious, intelligent 
face. The chief surgeon patted the landlord soothingly 
on the shoulder, as he was wont to do at all stops, and 
told him not to worry, because he would be paid for 
everything. 

The snow still fell, fine, slow snow, without any wind. 
By morning about five inches had fallen, and every- 
thing had a wintry appearance. The chief surgeon 
decided to stay here for the day, in order to give the 
horses a chance to get rested. It was lonesome and 
dreary. The soldiers carried away from the barns any- 
thing that fell into their hands. The old landlord, with 
a long pipe in his mouth, walked quietly up and down 
the yard, without protesting, merely examining his 
barns after the soldiers had left. One felt ashamed, 
looking at his serious, pensive face, with the imprint 
of a peculiar, aristocratic elegance. 

In the morning we got ready to leave. The chief 
surgeon was surrounded by the Chinamen from whom 
he had taken provender and wood, and in whose farm- 
houses the rank and file had slept. The chief surgeon, 
as though busy with some matters, told them all in an 
impatient voice : 

"Just wait! Later!" 

The baggage-train was ready, and a mount was 
brought to the chief surgeon. 

"You'll get it all right," the chief surgeon said has- 



WANDERING S19 

tily, handing out money to the Chinese that surrounded 
him. To one he gave half a ruble, to another a ruble. 
To our landlord he gave five rubles. 

The Chinamen became excited, and through our in- 
terpreter and guide began to figure out how much 
wood and kao-liang straw our soldiers had used up, 
and how much chumiz they had taken for the horses. 
Our landlord did not say a word. He only held the 
five ruble note in his hand and sadly looked at Davydov 
as though ashamed for him. 

"That's all you'll get, you scoundrel!" the chief 
surgeon said, angrily. 

"Of course they are thieves ! They do nothing but 
lie!" the soldiers sustained, looking with hostility at 
the Chinamen. 

"They ought to be satisfied with anything I have 
given themf And they think it's too little!" Davydov 
said, in provocation. 

We indignantly protested: 

"Why, then, don't you agree about the price in ad- 
vance? If kao-liang and chumiz are wanted, buy the 
stuff and pay for it! You simply take without pur- 
chasing, and do not even control the amount the sol- 
diers may take!" 

"These rascals would gladly flay you alive!" 

"I don't know about that ! When we travelled with- 
out you we always got along excellently with the Chi- 
nese, and there never were any misunderstandings !" 

"Enough! Away!" Davydov shouted at the China- 
men, and mounted his horse. "We are off! Friend, 
lead us on!" he said, turning to the guide. 

The guide looked at him with indignant eyes. 

"Me not want !" he said. 

The chief surgeon felt abashed. 

"I'll give you two rubles !" he said, raising two fin- 
gers. 

The guide shook his head and walked away. 



SW IN THE WAR 

We proceeded without a guide. In the next village 
Davjdov hired another Chinaman to take us to Li-dia- 
tun. 

The new guide was a stalwart fellow with bold, 
smiling ejes and with his thick queue wound about his 
head. He walked ahead of the train, leaning on a 
long staiF, stepping over the snow with his Chinese 
boots, with their characteristic straps in the back. 
It was cold, and the snow glistened in the sun. The 
roads were bad and little travelled over. Away be- 
hind us was the railway, from which the whistling of 
the locomotives and the rumbling of the trains could 
barely be heard. Then even these sounds disappeared 
in the snowy quiet. 

We walked and walked. Nowhere was there a Rus- 
sian face. There were hardly any villages, only sep- 
arate hamlets of from three to four farmhouses, close 
to each other. The Chinese at the gates watched us 
curiously, and, as usual, with silent, dispassionate 
glances. 

The sun was shining, the snow was sparkling. The 
soldiers instinctively pressed closer to the carts. The 
guide, in his three-cornered fur cap, marched silently 
ahead of the baggage-train, leaning on his long staff, 
and laughing at something with his bold, bulging eyes. 

"Your Honor, what is this — is a Chinese Susanin ^ 
guiding us?" the master-at-arms asked me. 

It looked very much like it. 

At last we reached the village Hun-shimi-oz. Here 
we learned definitely that no such village as Li-dia-tun 
existed in the country around, and that there were only 
villages Li-diu and Li-dia-f an. In the distance we could 
see the camps of the hospitals that had arrived before 
us. They had taken up their positions in the large 
village Li-dia-fan. All the farmhouses were occupied, 

^A Russian guide who led the attacking Polish army into 
an ambush, and thus saved Emperor Michael. 



WANDERING 321 

and not one was left for us. Here again everybody 
had the sensation of blundering and neglect. One of 
the hospitals had remained the night before in a vil- 
lage where, according to the statement of the Chinese, 
a large division of well-armed Hung-hu-tziis had 
stayed the previous night. 

Our hospital stopped in a small hamlet about two 
versts from Li-dia-fan. 

The Chinese hurriedly carried off on their shoulder 
yokes baskets and bags filled with their property. Our 
landlords conversed with us amiably, and smiled good- 
naturedly, but at the same time talked with conoern 
and haste among themselves, watching the stacks of 
kao-liang as they were being carried off by the sol- 
diers. The supervisor always had permitted the loot- 
ing with indifference and unconcern. But this time he 
suddenly made an attack upon the soldiers and an- 
grily proclaimed that if any one would take as much 
as a stick from the Chinese without his permission he 
would immediately have him court-martialled. 

Now that danger was in the air the supervisor 
changed all of a sudden. He became modest and 
pensive, suddenly began to think of his rights, and 
started to buy provender and provisions without refer- 
ence to the chief surgeon, paying for everything in 
cash. The chief surgeon frowned and quarrelled with 
him, but the supervisor was now firm and decided. 
The Chinese found in him a warm protector. He sternly 
watched his detachment and allowed no looting. It was 
only necessary for a little danger to loom up, for a 
little chance of resistance — and suddenly it became 
very easy to arrange matters with the Chinese, and 
not worst them J 

We stayed there a day, and yet another day. A 
new order came from Chetyrkin, addressed to the chief 
surgeon of one of the hospitals. This was that all 



322 IN THE WAR 

the hospitals were to pitch camp, that such-and-such a 
hospital was to receive the severely wounded, such-and- 
such the contagious patients, and so forth. Our hos- 
pital was ordered to care for the "slightly indisposed 
and the lightly wounded until their recovery." Every- 
body roared. Of course, not a single hospital pitched 
camp, because there were no patients to receive. 

The snow melted by degrees, and a cold, dirty-white 
slush ensued. The nights were pitch dark. A patrol 
walked around the hamlet, and sentinels stood in the 
yard near the gates. But it was impossible to see 
two paces ahead, and the Hung-hu-tziis could easily 
get up to the very hamlet without a shot being fired. 
Now the Hung-hu-tziis were armed with Japanese 
rifles, had been regularly drilled, and made attacks 
in accordance with all the tactical rules. 

Late one evening, after we had retired, the regular 
clatter of a galloping horse could be heard along the 
road, and later in the yard of our farmhouse. A pale 
soldier, a stranger to us, entered and handed the su- 
pervisor a note. It was from the supervisor of the 
adjoining hospital. 

"According to rumors which have reached us, a large 
party of Hung-hu-tziis is preparing to attack our hos- 
pitals in the night, of which fact I herewith inform you." 

Everybody was suddenly filled with anxiety. The 
supervisor grew pale, and sent the servant for the 
sergeant-major. 

"I believe you have a company for defence?" he 
asked the soldier who had brought the note. 

"Yes, sir." 

The supervisor sent by him a note in which he asked, 
in view of our lonely situation, to have a squad from 
the company of defence sent to him for protection. 

We had in all eighty-five bayonets, counting the 
grooms, orderlies, and cooks. Forty soldiers sur- 
rounded our hamlet on all sides, and the others were 



WANDERING 323 

commanded to sleep in their clothes with loaded rifles 
by their sides. In the yard it was as dark as in a cel- 
lar. The surgeons' assistants and we surgeons exam- 
ined our revolvers. 

"There is no sense being afraid of the Chinamen! 
They are not Japs !" the soldiers said, contemptuously. 
*'I'll manage two dozen of them by myself!" 

"And there isn't a single Chinaman left to-day in 
the whole hamlet! Apparently they have been cau- 
tioned and have left. And yesterday they filled the 
farmhouses completely !" 

"No, they are all here! They are sleeping on the 
straw in the yard!" 

In reality, all the Chinese had disappeared. 

"The scoundrels !" the soldiers said, in disgust and 
amazement. "We might have guessed it from the 
start ! They looked at us like so many wolves ! Take 
that lame landlord of ours, for example: yesterday 
we swiped some potatoes from his bin, and he nearly 
devoured us with his eyes ! We ought to kill the whole 
lot of them!" 

An hour passed, and another. They did not send 
any protection. The supervisor, covered with all kinds 
of weapons over his cloak, was sitting and listening 
intently. The rest were dozing. How stupid, how 
stupid all this was ! Here we were sitting, without 
any aim, without any purpose. Maybe we should soon 
have to fight to our last breath, in order not to get 
alive into the hands of men whom we had maddened 
by our treatment. And what was this all for? 

On the table lay a book, Buch der Lieder, Grechi- 
khin, who was studying German, had been reading it. 
I opened the book. 

Am Ganges duftet's and leuchtet's, 
Und Riesenbaume bliihn, 
Und schone, stille Menschen 
Vor Lotosblumen knien. 



324 IN THE WAR 

Old, familiar, beautiful sounds. Something signifi- 
cant, pure, and bright expanded before the soul. And 
how amazingly distant all this was from the surround- 
ing darkness and mire, and the nearness of needless 
bloodshed ! 

There was no attack on that night. It is very likely 
that the Chinese had informed the Hung-hu-tziis that 
we had been warned, and were prepared for the attack. 

Next morning we decided to transfer ourselves to 
the village where the other hospitals were stationed, 
so that we might be all together. The chief surgeon 
drove to the treasury at Kuan-cheng-tzii Station and 
wrote a letter to the senior chief surgeon. In his 
letter he asked him to crowd himself a little and give 
room in the village for our hospital, since, according 
to the order of the Chief of the Sanitary Unit of the 
Third Army, we were supposed to be stationed in that 
village. Shantser and I rode off with the letter. 

We were received by a tall, wizened old man, with 
a greyish beard, wearing the shoulder-straps of a Coun- 
cillor of State. He scanned Davydov's letter slowly 
and methodically, once, twice, three times. 

"Here it says, 'according to the order.' What or- 
der .?" he asked. 

"What order? Why, the order that was sent to 
us bore your signature!" 

"Oh, that order ! But there is no room here ! Every- 
thing is occupied here ! Aren't you comfortable there.''" 

We explained to him that we were located there all 
by ourselves, and, in case of an attack of the Hung- 
hu-tziis, would be utterly helpless. 

"You are afraid of the Hung-hu-tziis.'"' the old man 
asked, with a smile. "But you have a detachment that 
is armed with rifles !" 

"You have in your village seven detachments and 
a whole company of defence, and yet you did not fur- 
nish us with even a squad for last night!" 



WANDERING 325 

"Hem!" The old man grew silent, as though he had 
not heard our retort. 

^ "Your men have spread themselves over a great ter- 
ritory here," Shantser continued. "In your hospital, 
for example, a separate large farmhouse has been set 
aside for the office, a separate one for the drug-store. 
That is too much of a luxury!" 

The old man glanced pensively at the letter, then 
he looked at our shoulder-straps. 

"You are junior surgeons!" 

"Yes." 

"Well, in any case, I consider it quite impossible 
to settle this question with you people! I shall send 
a letter to your chief surgeon to-day, in which I shall 
ask him to call on me to-morrow at nine o'clock in 
the morning, when we shall take the matter into con- 
sideration. That is the best I can do for you!" 

We drank tea with the junior surgeons of his hos- 
pital. With them matters stood as almost every- 
where — the junior surgeons spoke with contemptuous 
disgust of their chief surgeon, and stood in a cold, 
official relation to him. He had at one time been the 
chief surgeon of a regiment, then he had long served 
as the secretary in connection with a large military 
hospital ; and from there he found his way to the war 
as chief surgeon. He had long forgotten all about 
medicine, and was existing only by means of official 
documents. The surgeons laughed aloud when they 
heard that Shantser had considered it superfluous to 
maintain a separate large building for the office. 

"But that's where the soul of the whole hospital 
is!^ Surgeons, drug-store, sick-rooms — all these are 
unimportant appendices to the office! An unlucky 
scribe is working there for twenty hours a day — ^he 
writes and writes! We live in farmhouses adjoining 
that of the chief surgeon, and we meet him a dozen 
times a day ! Yet we receive from him each day docu- 



S26 IN THE WAR 

ments with 'orders!' You ought to look at his hos- 
pital orders — they are whole folios in size!" 

The old man, it turned out, was awfully frightened 
when he heard of the imminent attack of the Hung-hu- 
tziis, and wouldn't think of sending us even a single 
soldier for protection ! 

The surgeons went with us to visit another hospital. 
There the chief surgeon appeared to be a real man. 
But his own hospital was located in very crowded quar- 
ters, because the "Councillor of State" had taken pos- 
session of all the buildings! It so happened that the 
Councillor of State just then entered. 

"Have you heard it.'' They are afraid of Hung-hu- 
tziis," he said, with a smile. 

"That is natural! What sense is there in remain- 
ing there?" answered the chief surgeon whom we were 
visiting. "They have driven us five miles from hell, 
and so we all ought to keep together!" 

"What an amazing arrangement this of Chetyrkin 
is!" Shantser said, laughing. "What sense was there 
in sending us here.''" 

"It is not for us to pass judgment," the old man 
said, dryly and sternly. "It may be that you would 
have made worse arrangements still!" 

"No, that would be hard to do !" one of his surgeons 
replied, with a smile. 

The conversation turned on the Mukden defeat, and 
on the outlook for peace. 

"When will all this dirty business come to an end.'"' 
somebody said, with a sigh. 

The old man opened his eyes widely in perplexity. 

"What dirty business.? What are you talking 
about.?" 

Next day we moved to their village, and two days 
later there arrived a new order of Chetyrkin for all 
of us to break camp and proceed to the city of Mai- 
mai-kai, about ninety versts to the south. The 



WANDERING 3«7 

itinerary was laid out with the usual precision: the 
first day to stop there and there, after a march of 
18 versts ; the next day to stop there and there, after 
having made 35 versts ; and so forth. On the evening 
of March 25 we were to be in Mai-mai-kai. All this 
was arranged without the slightest knowledge of the 
quality of the road, as we soon found out, and so we 
marched without reference to the given itinerary. 

From the officers who brought the order we learned 
a pleasant bit of news, namely, that our corps was 
being transferred from the Third Army to the Second. 
That meant that we were leaving the solicitous care 
of General Chetyrkin. 

In the morning we began the march. 

The snow had melted. The roads were still muddy, 
but had begun to dry out. In the fields could be 
seen Chinese at work. They were digging up the kao- 
liang roots with their mattocks and depositing piles 
of manure on the fields. The further south we pro- 
ceeded the more the Russian spirit became apparent. 
On the road we more and more frequently met two- 
wheeled carts loaded with Chinese movables and with 
Chinese women and children, all of them hurrying 
north. 

We also came across destroyed farmhouses, from 
which the roofs had been removed for fuel. There was 
an increasing number of them. In place of hamlets 
there were heaps of clay, straw, and remnants of walls. 
The habitable farmhouses were crowded with Russian 
soldiers. The Chinese became more and more scarce. 
Again there dashed over the fields packs of homeless, 
frightened dogs. The trees fell under the strokes of 
Russian axes. 

Old familiar pictures! We were entering the na- 
tive atmosphere. The supervisor again became glib 
of tongue and self-confident; the chief surgeon again 



S28 IN THE WAR 

arbitrarily cleaned out the Chinese at the lodgings, 
paid them in half rubles and rubles, and called them 
thieves. 

After three days we arrived in Mai-mai-kai. The 
town was overcrowded with troops and fugitive peas- 
ants. It was awful to enter a farmhouse which was 
occupied by the Chinese. It swarmed with heaps of 
men, just as a decaying piece of flesh swarms with 
maggots. In the stench and dirt squirmed men, women, 
and children, healthy and sick alike. 

At the Staff and at the lazaretto they talked of 
the possibility of a retreat in the near future. They 
said that no Japanese could be found for eighty versts 
ahead of us, and that they were making a wide de- 
tour to the north. They said that the Japanese had 
sent us an invitation to go to their Harbin for Easter 
confession. We recalled how they had but a short 
time ago invited us to Mukden for Shrove-tide dum- 
plings. It was resolved to abandon the Si-ping-kai 
positions, we were told, and to retreat beyond Sungari 
to Harbin. 



CHAPTER X 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 



We were stationed some versts to the north of Mai- 
mai-kai, near the Mandarin Road. 

In the morning a strong wind was blowing. Towards 
night it subsided and the sky was ruddy with the eve- 
ning glow. Not far from our station a crowd of 
artillerymen was gathered near a well. I walked up 
to them. On the ground, stretching out her head, 
a horse lay motionless, slowly opening and closing her 
eyes. Nearby stood a second-captain of artillery. 
We saluted each other. 

**Is the horse sick?" I asked. 

"Yes. She could barely walk all the time. We just 
gave her some water to drink, and she fell down, and 
cannot rise. Her back is as though it were broken. 
It is all the result of February 25," added the cap- 
tain, lowering his voice so that the soldiers might not 
hear. "A mass of horses broke down during the re- 
treat, and now they are dying like flies." 

"Are you stationed near here.''" 

"Yes, we have stopped over there in the hamlet for 
the night. We shall move again in the morning." 

"Where?" 

"Where? To the north, of course," the captain an- 
swered, with a smile. 

"What do you hear about the Japanese?" 

**They say they are near Kirin." I walked away 
from the well with him. "Have you heard? There 
have been conversations about peace since March 18." 

329 



330 IN THE WAR 

"You don't say!" 

"Our Army Staff has received to-day the informa- 
tion that the Emperor has summoned the Zemski Sobor 
and has informed them that the war has been unsuccess- 
ful for us, and that it was necessary to make peace." 

Upon arriving home, I told our men about it. There 
were no soldiers of the rank and file in the farmhouse, 
but five minutes later the soldiers were talking with 
animation in all the yards, in all the farmhouses, and 
joyous inquiries and laughter were heard. Every- 
where there sounded the proclamation: 

"The eighteenth of March! The eighteenth of 
March !" 

In the calm heavens, above the glow, shone the nar- 
row crescent of the new moon. There was a bright 
and happy feeling in one's soul, one felt like talking, 
like telling every passer-by that the bloody madness 
had come to an end, one felt like believing it and as- 
suring others of it. And everywhere you heard: 

"The eighteenth of March! The eighteenth of 
March!" 

Two soldiers approached me. 

'Your Honor, is it true that there will be peace.'"' 
'That's what they say." 

"Tell us, will we have to pay him?^' 

"Very likely." 

They fell to musing, and looked disappointed. 
'If so, it would be better to continue fighting." 



66^ 



«1 



An incredible, unheard-of defeat had just fallen upon 
our Army, and everywhere they were talking of only 
one thing, of rewards! The staffs swarmed with end- 
less recommendations for rewards, and the rewards 
began to pour forth as if from a horn of plenty. 

One could observe the same thing as after the Sha-ho 
Engagement, after the Liao-yang Battle, after all the 
previous battles. Almost every day the Army Or- 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 331 

ders contained very long lists of persons rewarded 
with military decorations. If one were to count up 
all those thousands of Stanislaus, Annas, and Vladi- 
mirs with the swords, all those innumerable St. Georges 
of the soldiers, one might conclude that this was the 
most victorious of all wars and had crowned our 
Army with most glorious laurels. It was as though 
with this downpour of crosses the Army wanted to 
conceal from itself and from others that sense of shame 
which secretly consumed it, as though it wanted to 
show and tell the whole world: yes, for some reason 
hopeless failures have stubbornly pursued us, but every 
general, every soldier is performing marvels of valor — 
they are every one of them remarkable heroes. 

The officers who had taken part in the Turko-Rus- 
sian War were struck by this superabundance of re- 
wards. According to their statements, it was not at 
all unusual for an officer who had gone through two 
or three important engagements to have received no 
rewards. A red Anna sword-knot "for valor" or a lit- 
tle decoration with the swords were considered precious 
distinctions. Now a red sword-knot, which in the of- 
ficers' lingo is called "cranberry" or "bill-berry," be- 
came a mere tag bearing witness to the fact that such- 
and-such an officer had been present at an engagement. 
In the stafF they said outright that every one would 
receive two rewards in rotation for the war. The Com- 
mander of the Tenth Army Corps, the famous K. V. 
Tserpitski, one of the few generals who proved him- 
self worthy of his post, was compelled to issue the fol- 
lowing strange order to his corps: 

"In the future I sternly forbid any one to recom- 
mend all the officers en masse for rewards, and ask that 
only those be recommended who deserve a reward for 
their valor, bravery, activity, and faithful execution 
of duties imposed upon them!" (Order to the troops 
of the Tenth Army Corps, 1905, No. 39.) 



832 IN THE WAR 

I came across an unlucky officer of artillery who had 
not received a single reward during the whole war. 
He said wittily, "I will send my card to the 'Novoe 
Vremya': an officer who has received no reward in the 
theatre of war!" That was indeed such a rarity that 
the card fully deserved a place in the newspaper.^ 

Military rewards, decorations with the swords, were 
given to commissaries, controllers, and surgeons of the 
Rear. 

Such important rewards as the Vladimir with the 
swords were given to staff officers "for distinction 
at various times in matters against the Japanese." 
The Stanislaus of the second degree with the swords, 
also "for distinction in various engagements with the 
Japanese," was received from Kuropatkin by "a re- 
porter, a nobleman by descent, Nemirovich-Dan- 
chenko!" (Order of the Commander-in-Chief, 1904, 
No. 755.) 

They were especially lavish with rewards to mem- 
bers of the staff, and against these the feelings ran 
high in the Army. The officers with influential re- 
lations who came flying from the capitals, frankly 
called their journeys to the army "Campaigns of the 
Cross." 

There is a story — of course, it is only an anec- 
dote, but it is quite characteristic — of how such 
an officer reasoned: "It is perfectly natural that 
an officer in a frontal position should receive a red 
sword-knot, while I get a Vladimir. He really gets 
two rewards at once, one in the shape of the sword- 
knot, and the other because he has survived. And 

* In the telegrams of the St. Petersburg telegraph agency of 
November 15, 1906, we read: "Lieutenant Danil6v I, volunteered 
in the reserve of the fleet, who was awarded the Stanislaus of 
the second degree with the swords for participation in the engage- 
ment of July 28, 1904, on the 'Tsesarevich,' and who declined the 
reward on the ground that it did not represent his deserts, is 
by Imperial order to be deprived of his decoration and never 
again to be recommended for any rewards." 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE S33 

what can there he higher than this reward? But mj 
reward consists of nothing but a decoration!" 

The respect for decorations had completely van- 
ished in the Army. Men in Russia, looking at an officer 
who was decorated with military distinctions, might 
have considered him reverentially as a hero, but here 
the sight of such an officer immediately suggested the 
idea : "He's got a pull !" 

Rewards poured down upon the rank and file just 
as lavishly and senselessly. The higher authorities, 
when visiting the hospitals, of their own accord at- 
tached crosses of St. George to any one who wanted 
them. Naturally, the authorities did not know the 
military deserts of the wounded, and the crosses were 
given to the ones they met first, and to those who gave 
clever answers to their superiors, or who aroused sym- 
pathy by the seriousness of their wounds. They told 
— even if this is not true, the very possibility of such 
stories is characteristic — that Linevich, during a visit 
to a hospital, put a cross of St. George on the breast 
of a severely wounded soldier, whom, as it later turned 
out, his own captain had shot for refusing to advance 
to an attack. At M we had a soldier in the hos- 
pital whose arm was to be amputated. The regiment 
had been resting far from the positions when a stray 
six-inch projectile dropped upon it and tore off the 
soldier's hand. His Corps Commander accidentally saw 
him in our hospital, and "out of pity" got the cross 
for him. This was very nice, so far as the soldier 
was concerned, but what a profanation of military re- 
wards ! The same projectile had injured several oxen 
from the army herd. Now these oxen deserved the 
cross not less than the soldier. 

We had a soldier by the name of Lisyiinin, who had 
been wounded in the engagement near the Sha-ho by 
five bullets, and who, after recovery, was transferred 
from the line to our detachment. Once, as our patrol 



334 IN THE WAR 

returned to the sentry-box from their beat, one of the 
soldiers began to unload his rifle and carelessly touched 
the trigger. The shot shattered the knee of Lisyunin, 
who was sleeping. He was discharged. Linevich saw 
Lisyunin at the station and awarded a St. George 
cross to him, whereas the five simultaneous wounds 
which he had received in a severe engagement had 
brought about no reward. The accidental wound 
brought a cross to the soldier, just because he hap- 
pened luckily to get in the way of the authorities. 

To be under the eyes of the authorities, to rub up 
against the superiors — that was very important for 
getting the rewards. In the supplement to the order 
of the Commander-in-Chief (Linevich) of September 
19, 1905, under the number 2011, there is an announce- 
ment that a silver medal with an inscription "for zeal" 
on a Stanislaus ribbon "for work and excellent service" 
was awarded to each of the servants of the Commander- 
in-Chief's train. Conductor So-and-so (seven of them), 
and Oiler So-and-so. I have not the slightest doubt 
that all these persons performed "with excellent zeal" 
their easy duty in the train of the Commander-in- 
Chief, which stood in one spot for weeks at a time. 
As a rule, the Orders were not very generous with 
rewarding the train servants, and I have seen myself 
with what "excellent zeal" the conductors and oilers 
of the military and sanitary trains performed their 

duties. 

The same light-mindedness, the same carelessness in 
regard to the appropriateness of the rewards was, at 
times, evinced by the lower authorities. They did not 
try to give even an external appearance of decency 
to their recommendations, which were strikingly in- 
consequential. 

The Commander of the Second Army wrote on June 

28, 1905: 

"Examining the recommendations of the lower or- 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 335 

ders of one of the units for distinctions of the Mili- 
tary Order, I observe that the exploits of five men 
of the rank and file are given verbatim in the same 
expressions, with the fivefold repetition, *He was the 
first to rush forward' — that is, there were, conse- 
quently, five first ones ! Under such conditions it 
would be hopeless to expect that the recommendations 
would be successful. The recommendation for rewards 
is a matter of responsibility — I ask you to keep that 
in mind." (Order to the troops of the Second Man- 
churian Army, No. 311.) 

Three weeks later he wrote again: 

"In a report of May 28, 1905, under No. 1254, the 
Commander of the Orenburg Cossack Division made 
representations for awarding decorations of the Mili- 
tary Order to seven Cossacks 'for valor and bravery 
in an engagement with the Hung-hu-tziis to the number 
of eighty-nine men, and in the capture of the number, 
together with ninety-three horses and ninety muskets, 
on May 15 of this year, 1905.' The words between 
quotation marks represent an exact copy of the third 
paragraph (descriptions of the exploits) of the list of 
awards. An inquest in this matter, and also an in- 
quiry at the staff of the Seventeenth Army Corps, 
brought to light the following: (1) that these Hung- 
hu-tziis were peaceful men who had been hired by our 
government to do service for the Russians ; (2) that far 
from attacking our detachment, they allowed it to ap- 
proach peacefully, and, upon request, surrendered their 
arms and horses. Under such conditions one may, 
by stretching the point, admit that the Cossacks 
thought the armed Chinese they met were Hung-hu- 
tziis, but it is impossible to admit in any way that 
the capture of the Hung-hu-tziis (in consideration of 
the fact that they allowed themselves to be disarmed 
without resistance, although they were three times as 
strong in numbers as our detachment) forms an exploit 



336 IN THE WAR 

of valor and bravery worthy to be rewarded with deco- 
rations of the Military Order. The above compels 
me to point out to the Commander of the Orenburg 
Cossack Division that such recommendations under- 
mine the great significance of the decorations of the 
Military Order, which are intended to adorn for life 
only the breast of a warrior who has actually mani- 
fested great valor. The recommendation was made by 
His Excellency at random from the reports of the puta- 
tive heroes themselves, and without the slightest en- 
deavor on the part of the Commander of the Division 
to clear up the affair, for which he had every oppor- 
tunity, since the Cossacks were supported by an in- 
fantry detachment of volunteers." (Order to the 
troops of the Second Army, No. 353.) 

Even if one should admit the usefulness of distinc- 
tions and decorations in general, it is none the less 
totally indisputable that the rewards, as presented in 
our Army, could only do harm. It is strange to re- 
ward for a mere execution of duty, since the non-exe- 
cution of duty is severely punished. It is assumed — 
and every layman looks precisely in this way at mili- 
tary decorations — that the man rewarded has com- 
mitted something peculiar, exceptional, and extraordi- 
nary. But of such men there can be in a whole army 
only a few dozens — well, a hundred or two. The glory 
of their exploits should thunder over the whole world 
and their names should be known to everybody, but in 
our Army there were many thousands of men deco- 
rated, and of the "exploits" of the majority one could 
learn only from the lists of rewards. 

Of course, they spoke everywhere of nothing but 
rewards, and thought -of nothing but rewards. These 
flitted about, beckoning and teasing, and were so very 
accessible and so little exacting. A man had been in 
battle. Around him dead men and wounded ones had 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 337 

fallen, and yet he had not run away-— how could he 
help laying claim to a reward? 

The soldiers, hke the officers, began to consider 
every step of theirs worthy of a reward. At the end 
of the year, after peace had been concluded, our hos- 
pitals were disorganized, and the detachments were 
sent to the regiments. The soldiers went away beastly 
drunk. It was very cold, and one of the soldiers 
dropped on the road and fell asleep. His companion 
walked back half a verst and asked that the drunken 
man should be picked up. Next morning he made 
his appearance at the house of the chief surgeon and 
asked to be recommended for a medal "for having 
saved a dying man." 

"Are you crazy.?" 

"Not at all, sir. I ask you most humbly to recom- 
mend me for a medal for having saved him, if you 
please." "^ 

"You idiot! Don't you understand? A medal is 
given when a man is saved at the risk of one's life' 
But what have you done? You just walked a verst 
out of your way, and for this you want a medal!" 

"As you please. If you do not recommend me, I'll 
enter a complaint! Why do you insult me?" 

Among the soldiers the respect for the decorations 
was greatly undermined by the circumstance that in 
rewarding the individual was not considered in the 
soldier. In an engagement a company has distin- 
guished Itself and ten St. Georges are handed out to 
it. Ten crosses for two hundred men. How are they 
to be distributed? It's all very well if there are pre- 
cisely ten who have really distinguished themselves. 
i3ut why must there be precisely ten? Or why should 
not these ten be recommended individually? As it is, 
the company itself distributes the crosses. I have 
been present at such distributions. Noise, shouts, quar- 
rels. One at once understands that it is not possible 



338 IN THE WAR 

to distribute the crosses in any equitable manner: dur- 
ing an engagement men have no time to watch each 
other and determine the degree of each other's valor. 
In the majority of cases, "so as to be fair to every- 
body," the matter is settled by "casting lots." And 
thus a St. George is given to some cook who has not 
even been under fire! Crosses have even been awarded 
to a sergeant-major, to senior second-officers, or to 
any one who puts up the biggest amount of vodka. 
What respect can there be for such a Knight of St. 
George? The soldiers themselves very carefully dis- 
tinguished between an individual real Knight of St. 
George and a collective Knight of St. George. Is it 
not possible to arrange matters in such a way that 
an exploit of a whole group should bring about the 
reward, not of accidental individual representatives 
of this group, but of the whole group.'' Such a re- 
ward might consist in a St. George ribbon in the but- 
ton-hole, a medal, or any kind of token which would 
truthfully indicate what actually took place — the 
group distinction. But now some are rewarded with 
crosses as personal heroes, while the others get no 
reward at all. Or again, the whole group may be 
rewarded with distinctions attached to its flag, or to its 
bugles. I can imagine what a sour smile a general 
would wear if his Anna or Vladimir should be at- 
tached, not to his breast, but to the flag or bugle. 

We junior surgeons of the hospital had already 
been recommended by the chief surgeon for a Stanislaus 
of the third degree, and we had received it for our 
complete inactivity in the engagement near the Sha-ho. 
Now after the Mukden engagement the chief surgeon 
recommended us for an Anna of the third degree with 
the swords. The Sisters he recommended for gold 
medals on an Anna ribbon, and the senior Sister, who 
already had a gold medal, for a silver medal on a St. 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 339 

George ribbon. In the motivation of the recommenda- 
tion it said that we had dressed the wounded under 
hostile fire. We laughed and retorted that we could 
not have dressed the men, for the simple reason that 
we had no dressing material. The senior Sister alone, 
to whom the St. George ribbon was of importance for 
her society work, stubbornly insisted, amidst the smiles 
of all, that she had dressed wounds under fire. At the 
bottom of his heart the chief surgeon hated us all, and 
we did not restrain our laughter at the rewards even 
in his presence. But he recommended us for decora- 
tions, none the less, because that was an advantage 
to him; if everybody under his charge distinguished 
himself, it was clear that he himself deserved a re- 
ward. 

In Sultanov's hospital matters were carried out on 
a broader scale. Sultanov recommended Novitskaya 
for a gold medal on a St. George ribbon, and the other 
Sisters for a silver medal on a St. George ribbon. Of 
course, it was said of all of them that they had dressed 
the wounded under hostile fire, and that Sister Novit- 
skaya had more especially distinguished herself by her 
self-sacrifice. 

But we had a different Division Chief now. By New 
Year our former Division Chief, a lazy, easy-going old 
man, had a nervous breakdown and was returned to 
Russia. His place was taken by a clever, energetic, 
and independent general. Towards the end of the Muk- 
den Engagement, during the universal panic, he 
brought his Division in complete order from the left 
flank to the railway and held back the attacking Japa- 
nese. Kuropatkin is said to have told him: "I have 
come across the first general who has not lost his 
head." This general did not care to consider in the 
least the particular sympathies which the Corps Com- 
mander entertained towards Sultanov's hospital. A 
J^eek before the Mukden Engagement he inspected both 



340 IN THE WAR 

our hospitals. He found Sultanov's men in a bad con- 
dition, the horses lean and emaciated, and the accounts 
mixed up; and in an order to the Division he gave a 
stinging reprimand to almighty Sultanov. 

This time the Division Chief protested against Sul- 
tanov's recommendation of the Sisters for rewards. 
He found no basis for distinguishing between Novit- 
skaya and the other Sisters: if she really deserved a 
gold medal, the other Sisters deserved it equally. Ran- 
corous Novitskaya was terribly put out about it. Sul- 
tanov gave a dinner. At one table sat the distinguished 
people, the Corps Commander, the Chief of Staff, 
Novitskaya, and Sultanov, while at the other sat the 
remaining Sisters and the minor members of the Staff. 
The adjutant informed the Sisters that the intention 
was to recommend them for gold medals. Novitskaya 
heard this, and proclaimed in a loud voice: 

"It will be very, very unpleasant for me if I am put 
on a level with everybody T' 

After that the Corps Commander began to make 
even more insistent representations to the Division Chief 
that the other Sisters should be given silver medals. 
The Division Chief replied emphatically : 

"In the list of awards there is a place for special 
remarks by Your Excellency, and you may write there 
what you please; but I will not change my recom- 
mendation !" 

Sultanov himself received a very important reward 
for the Mukden Engagement. In the month of April 
the Corps Commander once came to Sultanov's dinner, 
and during the meal solemnly put around Sultanov's 
neck an Anna of the second degree with the swords. 

We were moved some five versts further to the north 
to the village of Tai-pin-shan. We were located half a 
verst from the Mandarin Road on a large farm which 
;was surrounded by clay walls with barbicans and 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE S41 

towers. Here all the wealthy farms were fortified 
against attacks o^^ the Hung-hu-tziis. Our landlord 
was not at home: he had left with his family for 
Mai-mai-kai. The baggage-train of one of the infantry 
regiments was stationed on the same farm. 

Spring was coming on. The buds were swelling, joy- 
ful blades of new grass were bursting forth, and the 
yellowish meadows had now a greenish sheen. One 
evening a stout old Chinaman in a fur cap, with a 
pockmarked, beardless face appeared in the yard. He 
had an old man's kindly smile. He tottered along on 
his weak legs, leaning on a long, slender staff. The 
Chinese workmen looked at him reverently and said 
to us: 

"Big, big captain ! Master !" 

And they pointed about them, to show that he was 
master of everything around. 

The old man shambled over the yard and exam- 
ined it. He smiled good-naturedly and gently at us, 
and asked our permission to enter his house. This 
was granted. He entered and examined the rooms. 
Apparently he was satisfied because nothing was 
broken. 

"Shango (all right) !" said he. 

"We shall not break anything," we said soothingly 
to him. 

"Shango," he repeated. 

He sat down on a box in the yard, puffing at his 
long pipe. From an adjoining house with raised win- 
dows came responses and chanting — they were serving 
vespers. One could hear strange imprecations about 
those who were suffering, and about the peace of the 
whole world. The old man listened with curiosity. 

He had no place on the farm to locate himself, for 
everything was occupied by us and our detachment. 
Towards evening he returned to Mai-mai-kai. 

The Chinamen were driving into the field. It was 



342 IN THE WAR 

sowing time. Two Chinese officials with round balls 
on their hats, surrounded by a retinue of variegated 
Chinese policemen with long canes, were calling upon 
the chiefs of the Russian units. The officials pre- 
sented a paper in which the authorities asked the Rus- 
sian chiefs not to interfere with the Chinese in the 
working of the fields. The Russian chiefs read the 
paper, magnanimously shook their heads, and in- 
formed the officials that, of course, of course, there 
could be no possibility of interference. 

One morning I heard in the distance strange Chi- 
nese shouts, which sounded like howls and sobs. I 
went out. In the next yard, where the regimental bag- 
gage-train was located, soldiers and Chinamen were 
crowding. A row of empty carts stood there, to which 
were hitched under-sized Chinese horses and mules. 
Near an empty hole lined with mats the pock-marked 
old man was sobbing, swaying to and fro on his weak 
legs. He lamented, strangely raising his arms to the 
sky and clasping his head with his hands, and, bend- 
ing down, looked into the opening. 

In the hole the old man had put away four hundred 
puds of kao-liang seed, with kao-liang roots thrown 
over it. He had arrived in the morning with carts 
and workmen, in order to haul away the seed for the 
sowing. When he had uncovered the hole he found 
it empty. 

The chief of the baggage-train, a phlegmatic cap- 
tain with long, sandy mustaches, was there. He 
watched the old man with indifferent curiosity, and 
to the questions of the interpreter shook his shoulders 
in surprise, saying that nobody had taken the kao- 
liang. 

"Nikolay Sergyeevich, do you know if, perhaps, one 
of our soldiers took it.^^" he asked a lieutenant. 

There was something false and unnatural in his 
voice. 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE MS 

"No." 

"Boys, have any of you taken his kao-liang?" the 
captain said, turning to the detachment. 

"Not at all, sir," the soldiers answered, with hesi- 
tation, looking aside. 

The old man jumped into the hole. He rolled at 
the bottom of it in convulsive sobs and said some- 
thing in Chinese. The interpreter explained that the 
old man asked to be buried in the hole, because now 
he would die from starvation anyway. 

The soldiers walked away in silence, looking sad 
and morose. 

In the evening the orderlies told us that about ten 
days before the soldiers of the train had accidentally 
stumbled on the buried kao-liang and had informed 
the chief of it. The captain gave each of them three 
rubles not to tell anybody, and on a dark night, when 
all were asleep, he had the kao-liang transferred to 
his barns. 

I asked the soldiers of the train about it some time 
later. They told me angrily and with contempt about 
the matter, and did not try to conceal anything. 

"What could we do.'' Whatever a soldier is com- 
manded to do he must do ! But the sin is on the chief !" 

Only Groom Mikheev, who had discovered the kao- 
liang and had informed the captain about it, said: 

"Why did I do it ! The Chinaman has lost his last ! 
God will pay me for it !" 

The old landlord disappeared and we never saw him 
again. 

All about us the usual looting took place. Houses 
were destroyed for the fuel, and the last provisions 
were taken from the Chinese. The Commander-in- 
Chief issued a hazy order: 

"The Commander-in-Chief herewith reiterates the or- 
der that the persons in charge shall direct their most 



SM IN THE WAR 

careful attention to the preservation of the Chinese 
villages in the rear regions of the Armies, and 
to the regulation of the exploitation of the local sup- 
plies of provision and provender." (Order No. 
365.) 

This order again flashed by like a dry, useless piece 
of paper and disappeared. 

But, in comparison with previous conditions, a new 
phenomenon could be observed: the non-resistance and 
meek silence of the Chinese began to disappear. The 
predictions of the interpreter whom we had met dur- 
ing the retreat, that the Chinese patience would soon 
give way, was now being fulfilled. 

In the mornings they kept finding on the Mandarin 
Road soldiers and Cossacks with their throats cut or 
shot. 

It was dangerous to travel along the road alone. 
Transports which went out to forage returned empty- 
handed, while in the carts lay soldiers with blood- 
stained bandages. They told of encounters with Hung- 
hu-tziis, and of the fact that whole villages of Chinese, 
arming themselves with anything at hand, were attack- 
ing our foragers. 

It looked as though this were the beginning of a 
fierce, merciless guerilla warfare. There were rumors 
that the Hung-hu-tziis had lately captured two Rus- 
sian officers, had put iron rings through their noses, 
and were leading them around by ropes, with their 
hands tied from behind. The Hung-hu-tziis themselves 
were on horseback, and the prisoners had to run be- 
hind. They were left to sleep in the yard, in dirt, 
and out in the rain. 

At the end of April we received from the division 
staff the following strange telephonogram : 

"Important. The Commander-in-Chief has given or- 
ders to warn immediately the baggage-trains and in- 
stitutions located on the rear roads to be ready to 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 845 

ward off the attacks of mounted Hung-hu-tziis and 
Japanese detachments." 

What is this? In the rear of our troops hostile 
detachments are moving about freely and the non-fight- 
ing units are ordered to contend with them! Obvi- 
ously the flanks of our army are open and there are 
no screening detachments. Then the rumors must be 
true that some beautiful day the flanking army of the 
Japanese may cut off^ the Russian retreat and move 
upon us from the north. 

In the morning we received another order: we were 
commanded to fortify the farmhouses, to make bar- 
bicans in the fences, to send out scouting parties, 
and to build signal towers. Again the nights were dark, 
and painfully disquieting. The groan of a sleeping 
neighbor was believed to be the distant sob of a 
wounded man, and every sound assumed a threatening, 
alarming significance. 

It became more and more difficult to procure for- 
age. The surrounding villages were devastated. The 
horses starved, for they were fed on rotten straw and 
rotten kao-liang. An oppressive feeling existed in the 
positions and in the neighboring rear. Nobody ex- 
pected any victory. The most rabid patriotic officers 
did not put any faith in the ultimately demoralized 
army. It is true they proved that the present posi- 
tions were literally inaccessible, that a flanking move- 
ment was absolutely unthinkable; but precisely the 
same had been said before the Liao-yang and Mukden 
engagements, and nobody had taken it seriously. 
Everybody waited for and expected but one thing: at 
last the Baltic Squadron would come, would destroy 
the Japanese fleet, would cut off^ the Japanese army, 
and then everything would be changed. 

We were told that Linevich had sent the Tsar a 
secret telegram, in which he informed him that we 
had fewer troops than the Japanese, that the morale 



346 IN THE WAR 

had completely disappeared, that there was not the 
slightest hope of victory, and that our army was in 
danger of starving to death. He considered it his hum- 
ble duty to inform the Tsar of it, but for the rest, as 
a soldier, he did not dare to pass any opinion: if he 
were commanded, he would enter battle, even with one 
company. 

Of Kuropatkin, who remained here in command of 
the First Army, it was said that he was passing all 
his time in the front positions and that all men in his 
entourage had the impression that he was stubbornly 
and persistently seeking death. 

We remained in the village Tai-pin-shan the whole 
month of April without work. In the beginning of 
May they transferred us for the same kind of inac- 
tivity some ten versts further north, and located us 
not far from Godziadan Station. Sultanov's hospital 
had all that time remained standing not far from the 
corps staff. 

The trees and fields were already getting green, 
and it was growing warm. Everywhere roads were be- 
ing made and bridges constructed, in case we should 
have to retreat. 

They brought past us from the positions to the 
station parties of captive Japanese and Hung-hu-tziis. 
With them disarmed Russian soldiers were marching 
under convoy. We asked the soldiers of the convoy: 

"Why have these been arrested.^" 

"Why have our boys been arrested.? They have 
been cursing the officers," the soldiers replied, gruffly 
and unwillingly. 

A secret order was received to open and examine 
carefully the letters which arrived from Russia for 
the soldiers, since a large quantity of proclamations 
against the government were sent in them. 

There came news of agitation in Russia, of strikes. 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 347 

of demonstrations on a large scale. The officers made 
a witticism: 

"Have you heard, in Russia all the babes at the 
breast have struck? They are demanding freedom of 
speech and freedom of action!" 

"Yes, it's bad to return to Russia now. Affairs are 
not going right there!" 

"Never mind! We shall return and quell the dis- 
turbances !" 

"No, gentlemen, we shan't return so easily! We 
couldn't make our appearance in the street! Have 
you not read that last winter they knocked down a 
general in St. Petersburg.?" 

"And what a send-off they gave us when we left! 
How they shouted 'Hurrah' !" 

"Yes, and now you have to walk through the by- 
streets or else they'll knock you down!" 

"But that is a mob!" 

"Yes, yes! The same that shouted 'Hurrah'!" 

"The devil take it! No, it would be better if our 
corps were left in Siberia. Later, when all is forgot- 
ten, we can return!" 

A gloomy lieutenant with a red nose waved his arms 
with determination. 

"There is no use talking! When we return home 
the students will slap our faces !" 

"Well, we will see who will slap whom!" 

And his eyes burned ominously. 

Beginning with May 17 there were dull rumors in 
the Army that somewhere near Japan the Baltic Squad- 
ron had been beaten by Admiral Togo. The rumors 
grew from day to day, and became more persistent, 
more definite, and more improbable. They said that 
the squadron had been completely destroyed, that the 
best armor-clads had been sunk, and the rest cap- 
tured by the Japanese, that Rozhdestvenski and Nebo- 



848 IN THE WAR 

gatov were in captivity, that only one cruiser had got- 
ten to Vladivostok, while the Japanese fleet had suf- 
fered no losses. The most confirmed pessimists re- 
tailed these "exaggerated" reports with a smile. But 
day after day passed, and the improbable rumors 
turned out to be correct; the formidable fleet which 
had been so lauded, and in which they had tried to 
inculcate in the Army such faith — that fleet had gone 
to pieces, like a mere toy, under the long-range guns 
of Togo, without having done any harm to the Japa- 
nese, It turned out that the Baltic Squadron was 
a new immense clay gun, which was merely intended to 
frighten the Japanese by its appearance. 

Despair, terror, indignation reigned in the Army. 
How could all this have happened? The soldiers per- 
sistently refused to believe in the destruction of the 
squadron. 

"Maybe it's all only newspaper talk and lies!" 

Everybody was filled with deep, ever-growing per- 
plexity. Whence did the Japanese, of whom no one 
had even heard before the war, get their magic invin- 
cibleness and strength? 

"Well, now peace is certain," everybody said with 
assurance. "All the limits of madness have been 
passed." 

The rumors crept on, rolled up, and grew in strength. 
It was said that the Japanese had only been waiting 
for an engagement at sea, and now were ready to 
strike us with all their strength. They were pre- 
pared superbly, and if a battle should take place now 
all our Army would be swept from the face of the 
earth. 

They whispered into each other's ears the news that 
when the report of the destruction of the squadron 
reached St. Petersburg enormous popular demonstra- 
tions had taken place, and that fourteen thousand 
men had been killed. 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 349 

Rumors of peace became more stubborn. It was 
said that the Japanese had already started their ad- 
vance and had suddenly stopped it. The soldiers 
awaited peace with a certain painful tenseness and 
longing. Their eyes burned dimly. They said: 

"They sent us here like so many cattle to be slaugh- 
tered. Nobody knows why !" 

At last, on June 1, there appeared the Govern- 
ment's declaration that President Roosevelt had of- 
fered the Russian Government his mediation in con- 
ducting peace overtures with Japan, and that the Rus- 
sian Government had accepted Roosevelt's offer. 

Now the torture began. This torture lasted all sum- 
mer, about two months and a half. 

Everybody awaited eagerly any bit of news from 
Washington. The soldiers went every day to the sta- 
tion to buy a number of The Messenger of the Man- 
churian Armies. Roosevelt's mediation is accepted, the 
plenipotentiaries of Russia and Japan are ready to 
meet, and suddenly comes Linevich's order, in which 
he quotes the Tsar's telegram to him: "I put full 
faith in my valiant troops, that in the end they will, 
with God's aid, overcome all obstructions and bring 
the war to a favorable issue for Russia." 

And again: the place of meeting of the plenipoten- 
tiaries was to be Washington, but the plenipotentiaries 
would not meet until August, two months hence. Why 
so long? And in other telegrams we were informed that 
Oyama had passed over to an active advance. From 
the positions came rumors that a general engagement 
was near. The Japanese had landed in Saghalien, had 
seized the Korsakovski Post, and were rapidly moving 
into the interior of the island. 

The weather was warm and rainy. There was a 
continuous steam in the air. Rumors of an imminent 
battle became more persistent, whereas rumors of peace 



350 IN THE WAR 

negotiations and a truce became more hazy. The sol- 
diers said: 

"It would be better if they didn't write anything 
at all, because the despatches only torture a man's 
heart. To-day you read a paper, and you rejoice at 
the truce. To-morrow you open a paper and it's a 
veritable grave ! You hate to look at it ! It was much 
better when we didn't think of it and expect it ! Now 
you can't sleep in daytime for the flies and in night- 
time for your heavy thoughts! Formerly a soldier 
could eat a whole potful of cabbage soup, and now 
four of them eat out of one pot, and there's still some- 
thing left over. Formerly we couldn't get any bread. 
Now we sell to the Chinamen, and we still have some 
to throw away ! Nobody feels like eating !" 

There appeared in The Messenger of the Manchurian 
Armies a telegram which had been sent by the Com- 
mander-in-Chief to the Tsar. In this telegram Lin^- 
vich said that the Army heard of the peace negotia- 
tions with sorrow and that to a man it burned with 
the desire to contend with the enemy. 

The soldiers read the telegram and laughed ma- 
liciously : 

"Apparently he hasn't made enough money! So 
he is writing this way! He is getting twelve thou- 
sand rubles a month, so what more does he want?" 

"Why does he lie to the Tsar? He didn't ask for 
our opinion!" 

"If he had, who would have told him? They once 
made inquiries among us. The general asked us : *Are 
you satisfied with everything?' 'Yes, Your Excellency.' 
'Do you get good food?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Have you drunk 
your coif ee to-day ?' 'Yes, sir.' The general laughed : 
'But what coffee did you drink to-day?' Of course, 
of course, a soldier says 'Yes, sir' to everything, and 
that's all!" 

Some officers visited us from the positions. Looking 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 351 

cautiously about them, so as not to be heard by the 
orderlies, they told us that the other day two bat- 
talions had refused to go to the positions. 

"Why should we go? There's a truce now! The 
Tsar wants peace, and the nation wants peace! It's 
only the generals who don't want it!" 

The attitude of the soldiers was changing rapidly 
and visibly. They saluted the officers reluctantly, and 
there were constant conflicts. 

In the middle of July Witte left for Washington, 
and everybody breathed more easily; now it was a 
sure thing! Suddenly the rumor spread that he was 
recalled home while on his way. The patriotic papers 
wrote against peace. The city council of Khabary 
sent an humble address to the Tsar begging him not 
to accept peace if the Japanese should ask for an in- 
demnity, or "even for a foot of Russian soil." The 
Tsar's reply to the address said: "I share fully the 
sentiments which animate the Khabary City Council." 
The appeals of all kinds of insignificant places were 
received in the same way. Maybe all this was done 
in order to make the Japanese more yielding. But 
suppose the determination is really serious ! 

Everybody was equally tired of the war. They 
wanted no bloodshed, no unnecessary death. At the 
front positions there were constant repetitions of such 
incidents as this: a Cossack patrol gets trapped in a 
ravine which is on all sides surrounded by the Japanese. 
Formerly not a single one of the Cossacks would have 
come out alive. Now a Japanese officer appears on 
the hill, smilingly salutes the chief of the patrol, and 
points the way out. And the Cossacks ride off in 
peace. 

The rumors of Witte's recall turned out to be false. 
He arrived in Washington, and the negotiations be^ 
gan. Everybody followed with eager attention the 
progress of the negotiations, and they fought for num- 



S52 IN THE WAR 

bers of TJw Messenger of the Manchurian Armies, 
Meanwhile, the local authorities tried to "maintain the 
spirit" in the troops. The commander of one of our 
regiments informed the soldiers that peace was wanted 
only by the Jews and the students. 

A general of great importance who had just arrived 
in the Army said the following in his speech to the 
soldiers : 

"If anybody tells you that peace has been concluded, 
black his eye!" 

The Messenger of the Manchurian Armies printed 
verses "from soldiers," something like this : 

Do lead us, our Father, to victory's battle. 

Do lead us against the bold foe! 

We'll follow as thunder on thunder does rattle. 

To war now once more we shall go. 

Our blood shall wash oif the appalling disgrace 

Endured in the terrible past; 

The country's contempt we shall nevermore face. 

So lead us, our Father, at last ! 

The telegrams were most contradictory — one was 
for peace, the other for war. The final meeting was 
constantly delayed. Suddenly the news spread : "Peace 
is concluded!" This turned out to be untrue. Then 
there came threatening, ominous telegrams: "Witte 
does not agree to any concessions ; a place has been re- 
served for him on the steamer and Martens is packing 
his trunks." There was a rumor that the chiefs of the 
armies had met with Linevich in a military council, 
and that an attack was being prepared for the next 
few days. 

Never before in all my life had I seen such a uni- 
versal, deep dejection. The officers sat gloomy and 
pensive, barely exchanging remarks. 

"What madness! They are going to their destruc- 
tion, and they do not understand! This is simply a 
historic Neinesis !" 



IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 353 

*'Yes, the horizon is gloomy. Not only do they go 
to destruction themselves, but they send us there !" 

"It is terrible to think that the very best regiments 
are likely to lay down arms ; they have become too 
much accustomed to the thought of peace. And just 
to think of leading them to battle with such a spirit !" 

The soldiers were glum and angry. They sold the 
Chinese their last shirts. 

"What is the use of keeping them now? Let us go 
and have a drink. We thought that there would be 
peace! So let the treasury look out for it!" 



CHAPTER XI 

PEACE 

"Hurrah !" It thundered everywhere in the sunlit air. 
On the road two artillerymen were driving in a cart, 
swinging high in the air a sheet of The Messenger and 
shouting : 

"Peace ! Peace !" 

"Hurrah !" was the. reply. 

Soldiers threw their caps in the air, embraced each 
other, and shook each other's hands. All read eagerly 
Witte's telegram to the Tsar: 

"Japan has accepted your conditions of peace, which 
will be thus reestablished, thanks to your wise and firm 
determination." 

They read this over and over. After the telegram 
there was an editorial in the usual inflated, false style: 

"The near probability of the conclusion of peace 
will, to some extent, sadden our warriors, who had been 
awaiting further battles, in order to take off the weight 
of former failures by new victories. Unto all these 
worthy warriors of the Russian land be it known that, 
by dint of their persistent desire for victory, the pos- 
sibility has been created for Russia to remain now, as 
in the past, a great power in the Far East." 

And again the eyes ran up to the precious tele- 
gram. Everywhere there was rejoicing, everywhere 
could be heard merry laughter, "Hurrah!" The men 
tore The Messenger with Witte's telegram from each 
other's hands, and in Mai-mai-kai they paid half a 
ruble for a number. 

354 



PEACE 355 

They say that it was raining when the telegram was 
received in Harbin. In one of the restaurants an of- 
ficer turned to those present and pointed to the thick 
drops which fell from the sky: 

"Gentlemen, look! You think that it is rain! No, 
it is not rain ! It is the tears of commissary officers, of 
generals, and of members of the staff!" 

The great struggle of the Christian warriors with 
the "Dragon" had come to an end. Hypocritical pub- 
licists might even now have spoken of the holy exploit 
undertaken by Russia; but the soldiers estimated the 
quality of this exploit in an entirely different way. 
They said with relief: 

"We have had enough of wandering over the fields 
and heaping up sins ! Oh, Lord, what sin we have 
heaped up!" 

We waited for the ratification of the treaty. No 
truce was concluded. In the front positions conflicts 
kept taking place; every day there came news of men 
killed. Why these unnecessary sacrifices now.'* In re- 
ply the officers laughed: 

"They are hurrying to get those rewards which they 
have failed to obtain heretofore. The moment peace is 
ratified there will be an end ; the chiefs of the armies 
will lose the right to give decorations on their own 
account. You ought to see what's happening! You 
can't find a single general at home! They're all bob- 
bing up in the front positions !" 

The staffs were besieged by officers who came from 
all sides to apply for rewards. 

The medals of our Sisters were confirmed. The 
junior Sisters received gold medals on St. Anna ribbons 
"for their extremely efficient and self-sacrificing service 
in tending the wounded, and for the evacuation 
from February 12 to 20 of this year," The senior Sis- 
ter received a silver medal with the inscription "for 



356 IN THE WAR 

bravery" on the much-coveted St. George ribbon, "for 
her self-sacrificing work in tending the wounded under 
hostile fire in February, 1905." 

The Sisters were radiant and everybody congratu- 
lated them. The soldiers of our detachment asked me 
in surprise: 

"Your Honor, why did they get those medals? It's 
now the second time they have been awarded to them. 
Have they done more work than the surgeons' assist- 
ants? Why did they get them?" 

Indeed, they had not done more work than the sur- 
geons' assistants. The Sisters had worked conscien- 
tiously, but the assistants' work had been much harder. 
Besides, during the campaign the Sisters travelled in a 
carriage, while the assistants, being listed as of lower 
rank, went on foot. The Sisters received their keep 
and about eighty rubles a month; whereas, the assist- 
ants, rated as under-officers, received about three ru- 
bles. 

The chief surgeon recommended some eight assist- 
ants and hospital attendants for medals. He was told 
that only two medals would be apportioned to every 
hospital for the lower ranks. In this case, the rewards 
were at wholesale and by averages — two to a hospital. 
In our hospital the sergeant-major and the senior as- 
sistant received medals. 

The Sisters — I have nothing to say against them. 
In the war they had not been useless, and in the rear 
hospitals they had even been very useful; but they 
had served as a necessary adornment of a battle-scene. 
They had been "white angels, allaying the torments of 
the wounded warriors." As being such "angels," uni- 
versal praises were sung to them, and everybody was 
prepared in advance to be touched by them and to 
shower them with rewards. So far as I know, not a sin- 
gle Sister came back from the war without one or two 
medals. It was sufficient for a bullet to whizz by them 



PEACE 357 

within five hundred feet, or for a shrapnel to burst near 
them for them to be rewarded with the St. George rib- 
bon. For such Sisters as had acquaintances in the 
upper circles even that was unnecessary: they received 
St. George ribbons simply for being acquainted with 
the powers that be. Thus Novitskaya and the other 
Sisters of Sultanov's hospital, who had not once been 
under fire, received those precious ribbons. The Com- 
mander of the Army came to our hospital once 
during the summer. He was very nice to the Sisters 
and invited them to dinner — the general was fond of 
feminine society and always invited Sisters to his din- 
ners. During the conversation he asked pretty Sister 
Leonova if she had worked under fire. Leonova good- 
naturedly answered that she had not. A week later 
the Sisters drove to the Commander's for dinner. The 
Commander once more persisted in asking Leonova 
whether the Sisters had not worked under fire. He en- 
couraged her to give a positive answer, since he obvi- 
ously was anxious to give the Sisters the pleasure of a 
St. George ribbon ; but, to the provocation of the other 
Sisters, Leonova again gave a negative answer. 

Let it pass! Let the Russian public look at the 
orange and black ribbon and at the medal with the in- 
scription "for bravery," and think that before them are 
self-sacrificing heroines who had fearlessly worked un- 
der clouds of bullets, Shimoses and shrapnel. True 
heroism abhors labels. If the public does not under- 
stand this fact, then let its spirit feed on false heroism 
which is adorned by elegant labels. 

There involuntarily arises the desire to subdue these 
inflated sentiments when I think of the thousands of un- 
known, truly heroic workers, the surgeons' assistants, 
who invisibly merged in the limitless grey sea of sol- 
diers. Nobody sang any pasans to them, and their 
persons did not adorn the bright military scenes. With- 
out attracting anybody's attention, they marched mod- 



358 IN THE WAR 

estly in the rear of the companies with their dressing- 
packs; they froze together with the soldiers in the 
trenches; they really worked under showers of bullets 
and shrapnel, and fearlessly crept up under fire to dress 
the prostrate wounded soldiers. All the officers of the 
line spoke of these heroes with true enthusiasm and 
respect. For their work in the hospital I, too, have 
an especially warm feeling: not for the Sisters — al- 
though I can say nothing against them — but for the 
assistants and attendants who did their work with 
such remarkable conscientiousness and who took such 
warm and friendly interest in the wounded and the sick. 

In passing I shall say a few words about the Sisters 
in this war. 

Only a comparatively insignificant part of them 
were professionals who had already done work as Sis- 
ters of Mercy in Russia. The majority, at least, of 
those whom I observed, were volunteers, who had hastily 
been instructed in the treatment of the wounded just 
before they left for the war. What drew them to the 
war ? Apparently there were very few of them who had 
come because of an "idea." This war did not know 
any heroic Sisters such as there had been during the 
Turko-Russian War, heroines who surrounded with an 
aureole the very image of a Sister of Mercy. That is 
only natural. The war itself was characterized too 
much by the absence of an "idea." During the Turko- 
Russian War, when such men as Garshm entered the 
lines as privates, it was natural to meet among the Sis- 
ters such young women as Baroness Vrevskaya, who 
was celebrated by Turgenev and Polonski. But now 
there was enough work in Russia itself for any woman 
who burned with the desire for exploits and self-sacri- 
fice. 

The majority of the Sisters were from that class of 
women of whom there are so many in all the corners of 



PEACE 359 

Russia : they have finished their studies — ^what are they 
to do next? They live at home, give lessons to get 
pocket-money, suffer ennui, and wait for a chance to 
get married. At twenty years of age their life seems 
to come to an end. Suddenly a bright, enticing light 
appears in the distance, where everything is so unusual, 
expansive and interesting. There were also some wid- 
ows and married women who were dying in a dull mo- 
notony of life. There were some adventuresses. There 
were some women who were tired of a calm existence 
without storms — women with souls of falcons, but with 
weak heads. Such was the "Boy-Sister" in our hospi- 
tal, whose eyes flashed with an eager fire the moment 
danger was near. But there were few dangers ; life was 
monotonous and uninteresting here, and the "Boy-Sis- 
ter" had returned to Russia even before the Mukden 
engagement. I asked her in surprise what had driven 
her out to the Far East, what she was looking for in 
the front positions, when that real thing which she was 
trying to find had been left behind in Russia. 

"Where is it? Where is it there.?" the "Boy-Sister" 
asked me, in surprise and unbelief. 

Maybe there were in the Army some Sisters who were 
idealists. But I personally did not come across any. 

Again, there were quite a number of Sisters from 
aristocratic families, with great connections. With 
rare exceptions these Sisters were veritable scourges of 
those medical institutions in which they served. They 
were very little prepared for the duties of Sisters ; they 
carried out only such injunctions of the surgeons as 
met with their approval. They had no respect for the 
surgeons themselves and managed the institutions at 
their own discretion. They turned all their activities 
here into one solid, merry and original picnic with the 
generals and officers of the staff. 

A not lesser evil was created by the Sisters who were 
wives of officers serving at the front. During a battle, 



360 IN THE WAR 

when the Sisters are most needed, they were good for 
nothing. At such a time all their thoughts were natur- 
ally with their husbands. And if the news came that a 
Sister's husband had been killed or wounded the Sister 
completely lost her interest in everything about her. 
Individual Sisters of this type might have carried out 
their duties quite conscientiously; but the main thing 
was that they did their work, not from inclination, but 
from a desire to be close to their husbands. The less 
educated among them were extremely sensitive, and they 
took any remark in regard to mistakes as a personal in- 
sult, so that it was exceedingly difficult to work with 
them. The desire of the women to be near their hus- 
bands who went into the hell of these terrible battles 
was natural enough, but what was extremely unnatural 
was this — that the government was paying a consider- 
able salary — eighty rubles per month and keep — to the 
women for being somewhere in the vicinity of their hus- 
bands. As is always the case with the Armies in war, 
the craving for women was enormous. The mere possi- 
bility of passing half an hour in the society of women 
was highly appreciated by the officers. A regimental 
celebration was no holiday at all if they did not suc- 
ceed in inviting to it at least two or three Sisters. Sis- 
ters that, because of their education and social position, 
a beggarly lieutenant would barely honor with his ac- 
quaintance, were here persistently invited to the din- 
ners of the commanders of the Armies, and brilliant 
guardsmen made constant efforts to meet them. One 
of our Sisters, who was rather pretty, once had occa- 
sion to drive to the staff of one of our regiments where 
there was a dentist. The whole regiment was excited, 
and the officers peeped through the chinks of the door 
to get a look at the Sister. One of them told me with 
a smile of perplexity: 

"Upon my word, I am not at all bashful, and I have 
had many affairs with ladies ; but here, will you believe 



PEACE 361 

me, when it was proposed that I make the acquaintance 
of this Sister I stood for five minutes behind the door, 
was agitated, and didn't dare to enter. I had grown 
so unaccustomed to the opposite sex!" 

When we walked with our Sisters along the high- 
ways all those who passed by turned around to look at 
them. We would be a long distance away, but they 
would still be standing and dangerously craning their 
necks. 

It was the middle of September. We were waiting 
for the ratification of the treaty, so as to return to the 
winter quarters beyond Kuan-cheng-tzii. In the begin- 
ning of August we had been moved up to the positions, 
had opened up the hospitals, and were at work. 

The chumiz had been cut and now the kao-liang was 
being taken down. The fields were beginning to look 
bare. The days were sunny and warm, but the nights 
were very cold, frequently with frosts. The soldiers 
still wore their summer shirts and cloaks. The cloth 
uniforms and fur jackets had been carried off in the 
spring to Harbin for safe-keeping. 

The soldiers were living in their tents. They froze at 
night, and walked about with gloomy, pinched faces. 
Whoever had the money went to Mai-mai-kai and 
bought himself some Chinese wadded coverlets, but the 
demand for the coverlets was very great and the price 
had risen to eight rubles. 

Our armorer went to Harbin to fetch the warm 
things which had been deposited there. The day after 
his departure there came a document from the military 
stores to the effect that our things had been transferred 
to another store. No. So-and-So. A week later the ar- 
morer returned without the things. He reported as fol- 
lows: 

"They didn't let me have the things, because the 
document was made out for the wrong store." 



36S IN THE WAR 

"You ought to have made the proper representation 
in the old store ! They could have written a note on 
the same document that the things had been transferred 
to another store." 

"I did see about it. But they wouldn't let me have 
them. They said that you had been properly informed 
about the matter." 

It became necessary to write a new document, and to 
send once more to Harbin. A week later the things at 
last arrived. 

Many uniforms, fur jackets and felt boots had been 
so worn that they were no longer good for anything. 
We asked for new things. The amazing circumstance 
was revealed that there were no supplies of new clothing 
in the Army. 

During the review of inspection the Division Chief 
said to the soldiers : 

"Boys, keep in mind that it is still unknown when 
we may return home. The winter is fiercely cold here, 
and there are no supplies of warm clothing. Watch 
every bit of warm rag and don't throw away anything, 
or you will regret it later." 

As I listened to the general the chilling question 
arose before me : Suppose the Japanese did not accept 
Witte's last ultimatum and the war should be pro- 
longed ? 

I recalled the story of the officers who arrived in the 
summer from Vladivostok. They were amazed to see 
how slowly the fortifying of Vladivostok was proceed- 
ing. It was as though Vladivostok were waiting, as 
Port Arthur had done before, for the Japanese to lay 
siege to it, before they intended to proceed energetically 
to fortify themselves. 

Yes, here one had to believe everything — everything I 

The history of Sultanov's hospital ended with a big 
scandal. Once, as Dr. Sultanov was getting veadj to 



PEACE 363 

visit the Corps Commander, he stepped in to explain to 
the junior surgeon some misunderstandings which con- 
stantly arose in the hospital. During the discussion 
Junior Surgeon Vasilev referred to Novitskaya as "Sis- 
ter Novitskaya." 

Sultanov exploded. He stamped his feet and 
shouted : 

"Don't you dare to call Aglaya Aleksyeevna 'Sister 
Novitskaya' !" 

Vasflev's eyes bulged out in surprise. 

"Excuse me ! What else is she ? She is a Sister of 
Mercy, and her name is Novitskaya !" 

Sultanov madly swung his riding-crop at Vasflev. 

"If you ever dare to call her 'Sister Novitskaya' 
again, I'll strike you with my whip !" he shouted as he 
left the house. 

The affair took place in the presence of many wit- 
nesses. Vasilev reported to the authorities, giving an 
account of all that had taken place. The Division Chief 
ordered an investigation. In addition to this, Vasilev 
went to Kung-chu-ling to the officer in charge of the 
Red Cross and told him of the incident. The Red Cross 
chief, on his part, sent a messenger to look into the 
matter. It was a fine mess. The Red Cross chief re* 
moved Novitskaya from her position as Senior Sister 
and sent an old woman in her place. The Division Chief 
demanded Sultanov's removal, and informed the Corps 
Commander that he would no longer tolerate the pres- 
ence of Sultanov in his Division. The Corps Commander 
made every effort to hush up the affair, but the Divi- 
sion Chief was persistent. He informed the Corps Com- 
mander as follows: 

"Your Excellency, when I received the Division, you 
idid not inform me that my rights as Division Chief 
would be limited." 

Sultanov was obliged to send in a report of his sick- 
ness, and he left for Harbin, together with Novitskaya. 



364 IN THE WAR 

A month later he returned in the capacity of the chief 
surgeon of a hospital belonging to another Division of 
our Corps. From that time that hospital was located 
near the Staff of the Corps. The Carps Commander ar- 
ranged matters in regard to Dr. Vasflev so that he was 
transferred from his corps to another. 

In Sultanov's place they appointed a new chief sur- 
geon, a bustling, talkative and perfectly insignificant 
old man. Under his charge Sultanov's traditions re- 
mained in full sway. Count Zarayski continued to visit 
his Sister and the hospital authorities crouched before 
the count. His Sister had a special orderly. She pro- 
vided herself with a cow, and a soldier was detailed to 
take that cow to pasture. The Sister suspected him 
of secretly milking the cow. The soldier said to her: 

"Look for another man ! I don't care to watch your 



cow: 



I" 



For such a bit of impudence the soldier was put under 
guard. Sultanov's detachment became very slack. 
Once the Sisters ordered the soldiers to haul away the 
mattresses from a hospital tent. The soldiers replied : 

"We are no expressmen, to be hauling mattresses !" 

The soldiers had no right to give such an answer, but 
, . . the tent was being cleaned up for a party which 
the Sisters were giving to the officers of the staff. 

So far as my observation in the war goes, our soldiers 
were very conscientious in doing what they considered 
it was their duty to do. They would pasture cows, 
drag mattresses, clean out-houses and do the dirtiest 
kind of work, but only when they thought that this was 
work for the government, for the "Treasury." But 
with us they considered it a crying infringement of dis- 
cipline if the soldiers declined to carry out the unjust 
demands of the authorities. 

Once as Count Zarayski was sitting at the house of 
his Sister, his orderly informed him that the forager of 
the hospital had furnished their horses with absolutely 



PEACE 365 

rotten hay. (By the way, the hospital was not at all 
obliged to feed at its own expense the count's horses 
that came to the hospital almost every day.) The 
count himself went to the forager and ordered him to 
furnish good hay. The forager replied that the hay 
had been provided by the commissariat and that it was 
all of the same quality. Then the count ordered him to 
furnish some oats for his horses. The forager declined : 

"I haven't the right. Please bring a note from the 
supervisor." 

The count was terribly provoked and mercilessly 
slashed the forager's face with his riding-whip. Then 
he returned and said to the supervisor: 

"I have just broken my riding-whip over the physi- 
ognomy of your forager." 

And he rode away from the hospital. 

The soldier's whole face and head were covered with 
red welts and discolorations. He was an extremely ac- 
tive, honest and well-disciplined man. The supervisor's 
patience came to an end. He was provoked and entered 
a complaint against the count, detailing all the circum- 
stances. This stirred up matters anew and an investi- 
gation was ordered. The count laughed in the face of 
the supervisor and said: 

"The end of it will be that I will once more maul your 
forager, only this time more thoroughly." 

The investigation disclosed the complete correctness 
of the soldier's behavior and the complete guilt of the 
count. We expected that the count would at least re- 
ceive a reprimand in the order to the Corps. But the 
affair ended with merely "an oral reprimand" to the 
count. What did this mean.? The Corps Commander 
called him up and said to him : 

"Count, why do you beat the soldiers.'* You know 
that that is forbidden." 

The count announced in the hospital that he did not 
want the forager to get within his sight, or else he would 



S66 IN THE WAR 

flay him alive. But to his acquaintances he said, smiling 
merrily : 

"Do you know I have lately received a reprimand 
from the Corps Commander for having caused a tooth- 
ache to a private !" 

Peace was ratified. In the middle of Octoher the 
troops went north to the winter quarters. Our corps 
stood near Kuan-cheng-tzii Station. 

When shall we get home ? Everybody was tormented 
by this question. Everybody was eager to return to 
Russia. It seems so simple to the soldiers: peace is 
made, so take your seat in the car and proceed. Mean- 
while, day after day, week after week passed. From 
above there was an absolute silence. No one in the 
Army knew when he would be returned home. There 
was a rumor that the first to return home would be the 
Thirteenth Corps, which had but lately arrived from 
Russia. Why should it be this corps.? Where was 
justice? It was natural to expect that we would be 
taken back in the same order in which the troops came 
here. 

At last they published the order of the Commander- 
in-Chief in which the sequence of the return of the corps 
was established. It was a most fantastic arrangement. 
The first, indeed, was the Thirteenth Corps; then fol- 
lowed the Ninth, a few minor units, and the First Army 
Corps. With this the sequence ended for the present. 
The order did not consider it necessary to give any in- 
formation as to when the other corps would leave — at 
least in what sequence they would be transported. The 
anxiety caused by the uncertainty, the impassioned 
longing of the soldiers for their homes — these things 
should have been taken into consideration. But it is 
the business of the soldiers not to express opinions, but 
to wait patiently and humbly for the arrangements of 
the authorities. 



PEACE 867 

The soldiers were in an indignant and threatening 
mood. 

In Russia and in Siberia all the railways came to a 
standstill. In Harbin they sold tickets only up to Man- 
churia Station. Soon all telegraphic communication 
with Russia stopped. The great October strike was in 
full sway. Dim and indefinite rumors reached us. 
There were stories that massacres were taking place in 
all the cities, that St. Petersburg was on fire, and that 
a Constitution had been signed. 

At last, on October 17, a manifesto was received in 
the Army. Our supervisor took a copy of the mani- 
festo at the staff and brought it to us. He began to 
read it to us. Two orderlies entered the room and 
busied themselves near the beds, as though they were 
straightening up the room, and listened attentively. 

The supervisor looked askance at them. 

"What do you want hercf^ Begone!" he shouted 
sternly. The orderlies left. 

We burst out laughing. 

*^Don't you understand, Arkadi Nikolaevich, what 
you are reading.? This is not a proclamation. This is 
a manifesto. An Imperial manifesto. Everybody has 
a right to know." 

"That's so. But, all the same, this is not for 
them!" 

All the military authorities, from the smallest to the 
greatest, were very much excited by the manifesto. "The 
movable foundations of civil liberty on the basis of a 
real inviolability of the person, of the freedom of con- 
science, speech, meetings and associations. . . . No law 
can be enforced without the approbation of the Im- 
perial Duma, and for the representatives of the people 
is to be secured the possibility of real participation in 
the supervision of the legal actions of the authorities 
constituted by us. . . ." All this had heretofore ap- 
peared only in secret proclamations, and mere distant 



368 IN THE WAR 

references to such things had caused the confiscation of 
letters sent from home to the soldiers. And suddenly 
this manifesto 1 

The manifesto was not printed in the orders of the 
Commander-in-Chief and the soldiers did not read it, 
but nonetheless they found an opportunity to become 
acquainted with its contents. They innocently asked 
the officers: 

*'Your Honor, is it true that the Emperor has is- 
sued a manifesto?" 

The ofiicers looked surprised and answered eva- 
sively : 

"Yes, they say he has. I have not read it my- 
self." 

The soldiers listened respectfully, but their eyes 
looked roguish. Among themselves the soldiers said: 

"They are trying to hide it from us ! They think 
we are fools ! The soldiers know everything before the 
Commander-in-Chief !" 

A rumor was created and gained credence that the 
authorities were concealing two other Imperial mani- 
festos; one, of course, about the land, and another, 
that all the economic funds collected during the war 
should be divided equally among the soldiers. 

With few exceptions, officers were quite indifferent to 
the occurrences in Russia, or looked upon them with 
sarcastic hostility. There was in this hostility some- 
thing infinitely stupid and trifling; it proceeded from 
the innermost self and was not capable of the most ele- 
mentary explanation. That which seemed to be the 
peculiarity only of flour-dealers and cheap shop-keepers 
was here expressed with aplomb by captains and ma- 
jors: 

"It's the Jews ! It's the Jews !" 

In enormous labors, unprecedented in history, a new 
life came into existence at home, a historical fact took 
place which was shaking the deepest foundation of the 



PEACE 369 

country — millions of people were struggling and taking 
upon themselves the chains — but here there was only 
one attitude: 

'^It's nothing but the Jews ! It's all done by Jewish 
money !" 

Shantser retorted smilingly : 

^'Gentlemen, I am very much flattered by what you 
say of the Jews ; but, truly, you do us too much honor. 
It appears that the Jews have given you that liberty 
for which you didn't have any aptitude yourselves !" 

The armies stood at winter quarters and pined away 
in inactivity. Drunkenness was rampant. The sol- 
diers bought with their last money the local Chinese 
intoxicant, hanshin. The sale of strong liquors was 
strictly prohibited within the circle of the winter quar- 
ters, and Chinamen were constantly being arrested. 
But, of course, hanshin could be procured in any quan- 
tity. 

Everybody was tormented by this one persistent 
question, which demanded an answer: When shall we 
get home-f* But the authorities maintained the same in- 
different silence. In the soldiers there burned a dull, 
malicious provocation, and they wanted to do something 
which would compel the authorities to take them home 
as fast as possible. They threatened a strike ; but what 
strike could be inaugurated there where people were 
not doing any thing .^ . . . 

Linevich ordered a review of the troops of our army. 
The soldiers were revived, and they counted the days 
until the review. They all expected that Linevich 
would announce when they would be returned home. 
The review took place. Linevich thanked the troops 
"for their splendid appearance" and made a speech. 
The soldiers listened eagerly, with burning eyes, and 
tried to catch the indistinct, mumbled words. But be- 
fore the eyes of the Commander-in-Chief were not the 



370 IN THE WAR 

living masses of weary men longing for home, but offi- 
cially brave troops "of warriors, who, in expectation of 
future battles," etc. And Linevich said that he did not 
understand why the Tsar, our father, had made peace. 
With such braves, he, Linevich, would drive the Japa- 
nese from Si-ping-kai like so many rabbits. 

After the review Linevich handed eight hundred St. 
Georges to every corps, to be distributed among the 
soldiers who had distinguished themselves most. The 
jokers explained this gift in this way, that Linevich 
had not expected any peace, and had ordered twenty 
thousand St. Georges and now did not know what to 
do with them. 

"Eight hundred St. Georges for splendid appear- 
ance!" the officers jested. "Formerly they used to give 
St. Georges for military exploits, and now for splendid 
appearance !" 

The soldiers' mood became more and more threaten- 
ing. In Vladivostok a riot sprang up and the sailors 
burnt and looted the city. A riot was expected at Har- 
bin. 

We had an unpleasant presentiment. 

At last the authorities saw the real state of affairs. 
So long as things were quiet, they did not think of 
justice, and superciliously ignored the interests of those 
in their charge. Now they suddenly bethought them- 
selves of justice. On the tenth of November there ap- 
peared an order of the Commander-in-Chief which did 
away with the former sequence in the transportation of 
the troops: 

"In discharging the reserves to be returned home, I 
now command that the discharge be brought about in 
strict justice, in accordance with the arrival of the 
troops in the theatre of war and also in the order of 
the summons of the reserves, with the preservation of 
the following sequence." And there followed the order 
of the troops in the discharge. "Thus," the order con- 



PEACE B71 

eluded, "all measures have been taken in order to send 
the reserves home as quickly as possible." 

It was also announced that a whole series of steamers 
had been provided to expedite the transportation of the 
reserves. 

When we went to winter quarters in October it was 
decided that our hospital would no longer operate and 
would be disbanded. Nonetheless we were standing for 
a month without work, and we were neither disbanded 
nor discharged. At last there came the order of the 
Commander-in-Chief about disbanding a whole series of 
hospitals, among them our own. We were in doubt as 
to whether we should disband the hospital on the basis 
of this order, or whether we should wait for a special 
command from the nearer authorities. 

It was also known that we should not take our horses 
back, but would sell them here at auction. We had 
about seventy horses, and their keep cost about 
twenty-five rubles a day. One day there arrived from 
Harbin an export dealer, who bargained for the horses 
and offered one hundred rubles per head. It was an 
excellent price, and the Chinese did not buy our large 
horses, while at the auction they would go for a mere 
trifle. 

The supervisor went to the StafF of the Division to 
find out if he might sell the horses. The general an- 
swered evasively: 

"Of course sell them. But I warn you that I am not 
in it ! If there is any misunderstanding with the Con- 
troller, you will have to settle matters yourself. That 
is none of my business." 

The supervisor hurriedly wrote a document to the 
Field Controller of our Corps, asking for advice. The 
secretary, who took the document to him, returned 
with it. On the back of the paper the Controller had 
written in pencil without a signature; 



372 IN THE WAR 

"To be retunie3. The answer is given verbally." 
The verbal answer was that he could not say any- 
thing and wanted us to do as we thought best. 

Of course we gave it up and did not sell the horses. 
A month later, after the horses had eaten up about six 
hundred rubles' worth of provender, they were auc- 
tioned off at fifteen rubles. 

The railways had stopped running again, and the 
postal and telegraph communications with Russia were 
interrupted. But the strike committees sent out the 
information that the transportation of the troops from 
the Far East should take place regularly, whether they 
wanted it or not. The authorities were obliged to enter 
into relations with the Harbin Strike Committee, and 
the military echelons proceeded regularly. 

The discipline of the troops fell more and more from 
day to day. The staffs informed the officers that they 
should treat the soldiers as mildly as possible and that 
they should not enter into controversies in regard to 
breaches of respect. The soldiers were kept busy at 
the stops with gymnastic exercises, military parades 
and games. The Messenger of the Manchuricm Armies 
was filled with letters to the editor from all kinds of 
sergeants, artillerymen and sanitary assistants. They 
wrote in this wise: "Friends, it is a shame to' worry 
our Tsar; we must obey the authorities, pray to Goid, 
but above all, drink no liquor, because that accursed 
thing causes all evil. Of course amidst the officers there 
are bad cheats, but in general the authorities take the 
best possible care of us, and we must be grateful to 
them." 

One soldier would be reading, while the others lis- 
tened and laughed. 

"Who signed it.?" 

"Afanasi Gurevich." 

"Fool! Maksimka, write a letter to the editor: I, 



PEACE 373 

Private Maksim Prokhorov, herewith inform you that 
they are writing nothing but nonsense. . . ." 

In the regiments the cartridges were taken from the 
soldiers. The officers were ordered to watch carefully 
that in the soldiers' stations there should be no out- 
siders, that the soldiers should not be given leave to go 
to the neighboring villages without tickets, that sudden 
inquests should be made, and those without tickets 
should be arrested. ... 

On week days it was to some extent possible to travel 
on the road; but on holidays, when the soldiers were 
drunk, this was almost impossible. . , . 

One day I met on the road a large crowd of disarmed 
soldiers, marching under convoy. They were all drunk, 
and in an ugly mood, and cursed the officers whom they 
passed. The soldiers of the convoy apparently were 
in full accord with their prisoners and in no way tried 
to interfere. The soldiers were from a disbanded de- 
tachment of Mishchenko and were on their way to one 
of our regiments. At a station they became boisterous, 
looted the stores and got drunk. A company of sol- 
diers was called out against them. 

The prisoners said that they had not had anything 
to eat or drink for two days ; that they had been prom- 
ised to be discharged home in September and that they 
were still kept there. 

One evening, on a holiday, I was taking a walk with 
two Sisters. The sun had set. Along a narrow path 
near the bushes we came across a bearded soldier in a 
short fur jacket, who was somewhat intoxicated. On 
the border of his cap was the number of one of our 
regiments. 

"Your Honor, how can I get to the staff of the divi- 
sion?" he asked me. 

"You see the village beyond the bushes? You have 
taken the wrong road. You ought to have walked 
straight ahead." 



374 IN THE WAR 

"Thanks 1" 

The soldier kept standing and looked enigmatically 
at me. 

"Where are you from?" I asked. 

"From the staff of the division," he replied hastily. 
But the border of his cap showed that he was not tell- 
ing the truth. "Your Honor, give me a cigarette !" 

I gave him one, and he lighted it. 

"Your Honor, when at last will we go home.^^" 

"I do not know," I sighed. "They say in January." 

''We won't consent to that. We will strike. My 
wife writes me from home that the horse and the cow 
have been sold. She has spent everything and there is 
nothing left. I must earn something for the next sow- 
ing. And here we have to stay through November, De- 
cember, January I No, we won't consent to that, say 
what you please !" 

"My friend, what have I to do with it.? I myself 
want to get home as much as you!" 

*'It does not make any difference to you, with the 
salary you get ! You can go on as it is ! If I got as 
much as you, I wouldn't mind waiting for ten years ! 
All we got was forty-three kopeks and a half, and even 
that has been stopped on account of peace time ! For 
you, waiting is profitable ; for us, it means destruction 
and the beggar's wallet!" 

There was no answer possible ; of course, so long as I 
received two hundred rubles per month, it was easier to 
wait. 

"When will they send us home. Your Honor.?" the 
soldier insisted. 

*'They despatch them now in regular sequence, ac- 
coriding to the order. Those who came first will be sent 
home first." 

"I declare, in regular sequence! The Thirteenth 
Corps has just arrived, and it received a telegram from 
Linevich to stop at Chita, but it proceeded to Harbin 



PEACE 375 

and then went back. The Ninth Corps also arrived but 
lately and it has been sent back. How is this? We 
won't consent to it!" 

It was clear that the soldier was making every effort 
to provoke me to a conflict. 

"Well, there is the road to the staff," I interrupted 
him, and walked on with the Sisters. 

"The road ! Oh, I knew that without you telling me! 
I'll go home now! I was on my way to a countryman 
of mine, but it isn't worth while. It's too late now!" 

"Where is your home ?" the Sisters asked laughingly. 

"In the Regiment." 

"But you said you were from the staff?" 

The soldier smiled, waved his arm and walked over 
the field across the beds of kao-liang. 

"You'll lose your way ! You had better walk along 
the straight road!" 

"Oh, a soldier will find the road anywhere !" 

He walked about three hundred steps, then in the 
darkness abruptly turned towards the road and 
stopped under a tree near a Chinese grave. We passed 
by him. The soldier stood there and looked silently at 
us, then followed us on the road. 

"Yes, one is in a fight and another is in a plight!" he 
said, with a provoking menacing voice ; and then there 
followed cynical curses. 

The Sisters were excited. We slowed down our gait 
to let the soldier pass by us. He went past, but con- 
tinued to walk slowly, swaying to and fro and cursing. 
It was now pitch dark. The road was crossed by an- 
other. To get rid of the soldier, we silently turned into 
the cross-road and walked on without talking. Sud- 
denly a bending figure ran diagonally across the field 
and stopped ahead of us on the road, waiting for us. 

There was nothing to do but to turn back and walk 
toward the village. The soldier caught up to us on the 
run. 



376 IN THE WAR 

"So that's the way you are fighting !" he said, breath- 
ing heavily. "You are out at night with the Sisters 
for no good." 

I beckoned to the Sisters to walk to the village, and I 
stopped with the soldier. 

"Listen, my dear man. Aren't you ashamed to act 
so scandalously?" 

"No. What have you been doing here, eh? Now 
you went to one side, now to another. You thought 
you would hide from me. Sisters of Mercy! What 
were you doing?" 

He pressed against me with his left shoulder and flung 
back his clenched fist. 

"So that's the way you are fighting! Give me &ve 

rubles, you son-of-a-b ! Or else I'll knock you 

down !" 

"Of course you won't get the ^ve rubles ! Just stop 
and think why we tried to get away from you!" 

"I know. I understand everything!" 

"No, you do not understand! We went away be- 
cause you are drunk !" 

"No, I am not drunk." 

"Honestly, how much did you have to drink to-day?" 

"Upon my word, as sure as I live, I've had only two 
cups of hanshin, and I am not drunk !" 

"I'll tell you what : Let us go to the village and ask 
the first man we meet whether or not you are drimk! 
If they say no, I'll give you ten rubles!" 

We walked to the village. 

"God be with you! Let me have three rubles!" he 
suddenly said. 

"What? No, let us go. First let us ask!" 

"Won't you give me one ruble?" 

"I won't!" 

"All right !" the soldier said menacingly, "you won't 
continue to have a good time long !" . . . 

He turned into the bushes. . . , 



PEACE 377 

On the eighth of October we junior surgeons of the 
hospital received a document in which we were told that 
we were struck off the hospital list and were ordered 
back to Russia to report to the Moscow Military Medi- 
cal Department. Strictly speaking, this was a transfer 
to the reserves, and in this case we ought to have re- 
ceived travelling expenses to the place of our summons. 
To avoid this, we were not discharged, but "ordered 
back" to Russia. 

And so it is the end. Soon we shall be free men once 
more. Soon our relations to those about us will be de- 
termined by free valuations and not by the appearance 
of shoulder-straps and by the number of stripes and 
stars upon them. The end! 

We had passed almost eighteen months in Manchuria. 
We had experienced many privations and many hard- 
ships. There arose a desire to sum up matters, to give 
ourselves an account of what we had done there. It 
was a sad sum. The equipment of our movable hospi- 
tal had cost about a hundred and fifty thousand rubles 
and its monthly budget amounted to about six or seven 
thousand. One hundred and twenty-five men had been 
torn from their daily work in Russia and had been at- 
tached to the hospital. What had we been doing there.? 
In the interim between the battles we had been standing 
for months packed up, or had been receiving a few in- 
valids in order to send them on immediately. When an 
engagement was in progress, we immediately packed up 
and hurriedly went back. If we had not been there, if 
our hospital had not existed at all, absolutely no one 
would have been worse off for it, and no one would 
have even noticed our absence. 



CHAPTER XII 



HOME AGAIN 



Grechikhin, Shantser and I left together from Kuan- 
cheng-tzii to go to Harbin. With us travelled a number 
of officers and surgeons who were also being sent back 
to Russia. 

Next morning we arrived at Harbin. Here the mood 
of the soldiers was even worse than at the positions. . . . 

Terrible dramas took place. In Vladivostok, Artil- 
lery Captain N — tski met a soldier on the street. There 
were two St. Georges on the soldier's breast and he 
walked with his arms hanging loosely at his sides 
and a cigarette in his mouth. N — tski stopped the sol- 
dier and reprimanded him because he had not saluted. 
Without saying a word the soldier swung back his arm 
and struck the officer on the side of his head with his 
fist. Following the customary tradition among officers, 
N — tski drew his sabre and split the offender's head 
open. This was noticed by some soldiers who were sta- 
tioned at the Churkin Barracks. They came running 
out and started for N — tski. N — tski ran into the 
officers' club and locked himself up, while the soldiers 
tried to enter. In the club there were a few officers. 
N — tski shot himself. The soldiers broke in and mauled 
the officers terribly. They beat them with clubs and 
kicked them with their boots, especially on the head. 
Two of the officers died in a few days in the hospital. . . . 

In Harbin all the traffic on the railway was in the 
hands of the Strike Committee. . . . 

378 



HOME AGAIN 379 

In the order of the Commander-in-Chief it said that 
the transportation by rail of the officers who were being 
returned to Russia individually was to take place in 
strict sequence according to the order of entry. But 
in Harbin we learned that this order, like so many 
others, was not at all observed. Those who knew best 
how to use their elbows were the first to get into the 
train. That was exceedingly unpleasant: it would 
have been better if we could wait a day or two for our 
turn, in order to take our places in the cars without 
ifighting for them. 

The train drew into the station at noon-time. The 
officers, surgeons and military officials poured out on 
the platform. Everybody tried to get into the front 
row, in order to be the first to get into the cars. Every- 
body looked angrily askance at his neighbor. 

The train stopped and we made a rush for the cars. 
But the cars were locked and at every door stood a 
gendarme. 

"Open the door!" 

"As soon as the first bell rings it will be opened." 

Everybody crowded about the steps of the cars. 
Everybody tried to make his way through the crowd by 
stooping and then straightening himself up in front of 
the crowd. 

"Don't you see that people are standing here? Where 
are you trying to go to?" 

"Excuse me, I did not touch you !" 

"Don't push ! What a shame !" 

The passengers grabbed the door-knobs and the ban- 
isters, so as not to be pushed aside. A lieutenant of 
sappers peeped in between the cars and noticed that the 
door leading into one of them was not closed. As the 
gendarme turned aside, he quickly jumped on the buffer, 
leaped over another, and disappeared in the car. A tall 
military surgeon tried to catch the sapper and in dis- 
gust shouted: 



380 IN THE WAR 

"Oh, oh, lieutenant! Where are you going? What 
right have you . . ." 

But suddenly the surgeon himself jumped on the 
buffer and disappeared in the car. 

The lieutenant returned from the car. 

^'Gentlemen, the car is already full !" 

"How so.?" 

The gendarme flew to one side. Roughly and an- 
grily pushing their way with their elbows, the passen- 
gers began to jump upon the buffer. They crowded to- 
gether and jumped over those who fell down. It was 
disgusting, but immediately the thought jflashed 
through my mind: If you don't look out the same 
thing will happen to-morrow and the day after to-mor- 
row. And so I rushed after the others onto the buffer. 

In the narrow corridor of the car people were 
crowded together and cursing. Near me the closed 
door of the compartment was slightly opened. I 
quickly pushed my foot into the opening and made my 
way into the compartment. In it were Shantser and 
four strange officers. 

"Pardon me! Everything is occupied here," One of 
them said to me. 

"Never mind ; I won't go away, anyway I" I retorted. 

"What do you mean by that? The compartment is 
intended for four people, and there are already six 
in it!" 

"Where are the six? There are only five of you 
here !" 

"We have reserved a seat for a friend who is on the 
platform with our things." 

"That's none of my business ! He is not here and I 
shall be seated!" 

Voices were raised, and in the whole car, in all the 
compartments and in the corridor, they shouted, quar- 
relled and cursed. New passengers tried to get into 
our compartment. 



HOME AGAIN S81 

"Gentlemen, let us settle the matter," I proposed. "I 
shan't leave, anyway, and meanwhile other passengers 
are trying to get in. Let us form a common defensive 
union and we'll arrange matters somehow later." 

Everybody laughed, and the union was formed. 

All about us they were still cursing and shouting. 
The next compartment was occupied by a negro in a 
shining silk hat and an expensive fur coat, together 
with an elegantly dressed woman, whose face was 
painted and whose eyes were heavily blue-pencilled. 
This couple had been dancing a cake-walk in the Har- 
bin cafes chantants and now was on the way to an en- 
gagement at Manchuria Station. 

A staff-captain, with faded shoulder-straps, shouted 
at a gendarme: 

"I ask you, how did these Ethiopian mugs get here? 
We didn't see them in the crowd when we stood near the 
cars ! You must have been bribed to let them in from 
the other side ! We have been shedding our blood here 
and we have no places ! But they have been doing a 
cake-walk and so a special compartment was found for 
them !" 

At last the train started. The officers seated them- 
selves and made themselves comfortable in the places 
taken by us all. Thank God ! Be it as it may, at last 
we were homeward bound! Ahead of us was Russia ! . . . 



